Lock to My Heart
by Jaime McBane
Summary: Lockhart never dreamed someone would figure out his hero scheme until now. With nowhere else to turn, he makes a deal to be a lover for six months—fearing he had made a pack with the devil. But can this ‘devilish’ girl really just a blessing in disguise?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Lock to My Heart**

***little note to the reader, there is a slight change. In this alternate universe, the actions that take place in the second book now take place in Harry's sixth year to make the pairing less creepy. Also, some of the dialogue comes straight from the book since this is supposed to parallel to it.  
**

Greetings all, I am Gilderoy Lockhart—writer extraordinaire. I have produced such works as _Year with the Yeti, Break_ _with a Banshee_, _Gadding with Ghouls_, _Holidays with Hags_, _Travels with Trolls_, _Voyages with Vampires_, _Wanderings with Werewolves_, and many other informative texts for the household. I admit…not _all_ of my books are told completely truthfully…such as me doing all these amazing things. I just write about them after interviewing the people who actually did them. Then, I memory-charm them; simple as that.

Recently, I obtained the job of Defense Against Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts—my old almamauder. I was rather surprised to see that THE Harry Potter was in my sixth-year class. This year most definitely will be interesting. At the moment though, I am heading to the library to do some research on the Goblins of the Mining Shafts of Northern America—the subject of my latest book. Contrary to belief, I do a _little_ work for my books to make them authentic.

I strode into the familiar room, gazing about me with drowsy pleasure to see everything as I left it many years ago. Sitting in my old table though were a group of different kids than the ones I would hang out with. I recognized the strange combination of flaming red hair, jet black mess, and bushy brown as Potter and his posse. They must be in the middle of a study hall the way they studied so intently. Sitting with them was someone I didn't recognize at first until I listened for a moment to her speaks softly to her friends.

Ah, yes. That's the transfer student. I remember her now. She came after the Cornish Pixie fiasco this morning in my class. I must comment—for someone from France, she had a flawless accent. I couldn't even tell she was from that country at all. She had become quite the talk of the school actually—more so than the story of Harry and Ronald Weasley crashing a car into the Whomping Willow on the first day back to school. Rumor had it, she was the daughter of a major minister within the Ministry of Magic—that her and her family had been stationed in France because of some major assignment. She made it no secret though, that she'd rather be in France than at Hogwarts.

She is quite beautiful, I will admit—almost stunningly gorgeous—what with her sleek long dark hair, pale unblemished skin, and dark liquid eyes— almost something out of a romance novel rather than real life. Suddenly, she leaned over to Weasley as he threw his head down with a frustrated sigh. Gently she explained the problem to him, going over it from the very beginning very patiently in that soft polite voice of hers. I decided to do some people-watching; hidden in the shadows of the tall shelves in my lovely gold suit.

How would I write this moment if I used it in one of my novels?…ah yes…_The young girl leaned her head toward the boy as they sat in companionable silence; her hair with its dark luster caught the streaming sunbeams from the window nearby. There was this almost golden halo effect about them as they whispered quietly and intently together_...

I was caught up in the moment of writing out this scene in my head when the girl's eyes swung to me with a raised eyebrow. Turning back to her friends, she obviously spoke of me—asking her friends who I was—by the not-so-subtle gesture with her head in my direction. The three Gryffindors turned to see what she was looking at. Granger, in a passion, roared in anger and hissed so loudly everyone that was there could probably hear it:

"THAT'S PROFESSOR GILDEROY LOCKHART! HE'S OUR DEFENSE AGAINST DARK ARTS TEACHER!" The boys and other girl flinched back from the ferocity in her tone, pushing away in their seats to escape her verbal wrath. Once she had calmed down, the girl turned back to size me up with a dark glare.

The sheer menace behind that gaze shot right through me to the core. Gulping, I hurried away and shuffled out the door without that blasted book I needed. Pausing for a moment a number of floors below, I tried to figure out what made her stare at me like that. I had _never_ been glared at so sharply in my entire life…well…except from my mother when I would bring home my mediocre grades from school.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Lock to My Heart**

Working late into the night with only the fire in the grate of my office's fireplace to light the room, the clock struck nearly ten. I was musing over the pop quiz I had given earlier this day on my various books. A faint bemused smile crossed my lips as I went over Granger's test. She had gotten every single question right, even the one on 'what is my favorite flower' that I mentioned in a side-conversation in _Travels with Trolls _(it's Forget-Me-Nots, if anyone is curious). It was almost as if she sieved up all the information she would ever need to know about me. I wasn't even halfway through the paper when a delicate knock sounded on my door. Who could this be?

"Come in, come in!" I called out grandly, positioning myself in this luxurious position in hero-mode. I had no idea who it was but I was ready to give them a show. Much to my surprise, it was young girl from earlier this day, still clad in her school uniform at this late hour. Her pale skin looked utterly smashing with that shade of red. I love it when things make a wonderful image.

Standing in my doorway, she stared at me meekly—hiding the shy adoration that she must feel in my wondrous presence. I rather liked the look of the pale blue moonlight streaming behind her from my single window in my office—it made the visual effect more dramatic. I simply must remember this for my next novel.

"Are you _The_ Gilderoy Lockhart? The one who wrote all those books about those fantastic adventures?" she murmured breathlessly. Naturally, my chest puffed out in pride as I granted her a flash of my dazzling smile.

"Indeed." I boasted, bowing my head humbly, "You are completely correct, Miss…?"

"_Walsh_, sir. Joanna Walsh." Her eyes flashed in dark amusement as she repeated her last name. "May I?" she asked politely, gesturing to the seat set before my desk. Nodding sagely, I agreed; gesturing for her to take it with a very majestic theatrical wave of my arm.

"Shall I recant my stories for you personally?" I offered generously, rather liking the awestruck respect this young girl showed me already—forgetting completely about the menacing look she gave me earlier. It must have been a fluke of the light. "I always say that the written word does not fully give my tales justice." She tried to hide a smirk behind her hands as she 'thought about it deeply'; keeping a completely straight face when she turned back to me.

"I have a particular interest in your story _Year with the Yeti_… it sounded so _familiar_ to me…" she said with emphasis. I didn't notice as I waved my hand; feigning embarrassment.

"Perhaps you have heard of it from one of my many adoring fans—you know there are so many." Her lips turned up in a faint smile, but her eyes flashed darkly.

"No....no I don't think that's it…" she made a show of searching through her mind for the memory, exaggerating the brightened expression as it hits her, "I remember now: my uncle, Artemis Walsh!" I tensed at the name, recognizing it instantly, "You know his story of his studies of the yeti in his diaries are almost _identical_ to yours…so sad that he went mad from his adventure…" she flashed me a sinister grin, crossing her legs nonchalantly, "You know, he simply couldn't remember anything after that." Shaking her head ruefully, she pulled out a photograph from the front of her blouse, obviously holding it close to her heart until the right moment until she could show it to me. With a triumphant smirk, she handed it to me to look over.

Standing there in the old photo was a man interacting with a yeti, taken when neither of them expected it. The recognition of the face must have hit me because her grin widened maliciously as she sighed deeply with twinkling eyes—moving in for the kill.

"Wouldn't it be simply _terrible_ if it leaked to the Daily Prophet about this strange coincidence…including excerpts from his diary and photographs of proof…?" I instantly dropped my act of grandeur. I should have known this was going to happen one of these days—one day one of their relatives would come to me with proof of my plagiarism and confront me about it. I just didn't think it would be so soon, let alone in _Hogwarts_ as I'm teaching. I forget sometimes that parasites live in all sorts of places and in all sorts of forms. She sensed this change in me and spoke frankly.

"If you agree to my terms, this information will not…_happen_ to find itself into the hands of Rita Skeeter…or any other journalist for that matter." I ran my hand over my eyes with a weary sigh. I knew where this was going.

"How much?" I said with another sigh as I looked at her with a defeated glance. She raised her eyebrows, folding her hands graciously on her lap with an amused smile; her eyes gleaming brightly like a fox's.

"I have no need for your money, Professor." she said in soft civil tones with that smug little smile as my eyes widened in incredibility; moving behind the desk and hitching a hip on the edge in front of me. If _I_ had this sort of proof, for it most definitely was proof, I would have asked for an obscene amount of gold. I had to look upwards uncomfortably to look in those black holes she called eyes.

"What do you want then?" I almost hesitated to say it, wondering what horrible act I would have to commit to make her keep her mouth shut. Her smile turned positively wicked as she leaned towards me provocatively.

"I want you to be my lover for six months in exchange for all my various items." she murmured softly, running her fingers playfully through my hair; staring into my eyes intensely; a mere inch away from my face. I coughed and sputtered, moving backwards but stopped by the wall right behind my desk.

"Y-y-you want me to by your _lover_?!" I declared disbelievingly, my eyes wide in shock. Her eyes glimmered in delight at my response.

"I might as well get a pretty boy as compensation if I am to give away my _beloved _uncle's _diaries _and _photos_—_everything _I have to remember him by." she said, mockingly putting on that same breathless voice as when she entered; wiping away invisible tears from her eyes with a grin.

It was then I just realized that this had all been a set up from the very beginning. From the very beginning, probably the moment she first saw me in the library, she had been planning this. Though where the whole 'lover' thing came from is beyond me; I'd rather ask for money. I should have known the moment she walked through that door she was going to play me for the sucker—she knew just what to say to get me to set myself up for the fall so she could knock me down. She got me: the great pretender. This mere kid caught me in her manipulative web.

She caught my attention again when she leaned back on the heels of her hands with casual grace, cocking her head with a smile playing around the corner of her lips.

"So what do you say Professor? Do we have a deal or no?"

I contemplated it for a moment. She had the proof—certainly more than this simple photo that conveyed her message in its singularity. If it leaked out—which I now have no doubt of her doing, if I refused—I would be ruined. Everything I had worked so hard for would go up in flames because of one little girl's ambition—my writing career, my respect, heck—even my awards most likely. It wasn't that bad of a deal if you think about it; she is a quite attractive girl after all—so terribly beautiful in the cold moonlight. It wasn't as if she was second-year _child_, she was a sixth-year_ woman_; young, but still a woman.

I turned my forget-me-not blue eyes up to her—totally speechless—before sighing with a chuckle. She inspected her immaculate fingernails, waiting for my decision.

"It appears you have me at a stand-still, Miss Walsh. No matter what the choice, I appeared to be literally and figuratively screwed." She simply grinned.

"You have no idea."

I couldn't help it; I smiled too.

Shaking my head I laughed to myself: "Are you sure you weren't accidentally sorted into Gryffindor over Slytherin? Where's the honor, the integrity that is so highly praised?" I asked teasingly with a half-smile. The girl simply shrugged calmly.

"It went out the window the moment you dishonored my family and me." she replied with a mild look, "At times like this, I believe we have a right to be manipulative and scheming." From her tone, I knew she thought this was true. I sighed, running my hand through my hair wearily.

"So when is this supposed to happen—might I ask?" I murmured easily, placing my hand on my knees with a business-like attitude as if I was negotiating some job at an interview. Again she shrugged.

"When I want it… where I want it," she grinned wickedly like before, sending chills down my spine, "…_how_ I want it. You are completely under my command and must do as I please." She leaned forward again, her eyes flashing as she trapped my eyes with her intent gaze. I gulped; full well knowing what the underlying message was behind that and what was going on in her mind. Smiling again, she waved her fingers in goodbye.

"Adieu; au revoir, Professor." she paused at the door for a moment before putting on her invisibility cloak, "Only one rule: no kissing on the mouth." And with that, she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Lock to My Heart**

The day passed as uneventful. Even the period after lunch when I had Walsh was well. She acted completely normal in class—which is: she didn't pay attention and chose to doodle strange little pictures in the edge of my books. It almost seemed like the incident last night was some strange dream I had after eating some bad food in the Feast Hall. That was until I received the little note written in fancy script on the top of her essay assignment she nonchalantly handed in.

**Remember our deal: Tonight at midnight in your office**.

I tensed, I admit. Luckily no one was in the room to see the cold sweat break out upon my face from her reminder. So our first meeting was to be tonight…I wished the day would never end and dreaded when night would come.

***

On the dot, the door appeared to open on its own and from under an invisibility cloak appeared Walsh. She was in her uniform, as usual. _What does this girl do in all this time in between? Does she just sit around in her uniform because she knows she looks good in it…or is that just something I would do?_ My palms were sweating fretfully, tensing my hands into fists and then releasing them before she came. I gave her a strained half-smile as greeting—just wanting to get this over with.

She must have sensed my anxiety and apprehension because she just smiled back at me; carelessly tossing her school jacket on the chair before my desk.

"So…" I said for the sake of saying something—anything to break the awkward silence as my fingers drummed on the desktop restlessly.

"So?" she smiled, cocking her head in interest as she waited for me to continue my statement; crossing her arms across her chest loosely with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

"So…where do we start?" I finally said bluntly. As I said before, I wanted to get this done and over with. She just smiled.

Striding over to me confidently, she slid onto my lap; straddling my hips as she faced towards me. Running her hands up my chest and down my back with a sexy smile, she removed my long jacket in one easy move and tossed it where she left hers. At her touch, my heart did strange little palpitations and I seemed to have forgotten to breathe.

"This is a good start." she murmured, sensing the anticipation grow between us to a thin breaking point; it seemed like any moment one of us would snap and take this over the edge. With deft fingers, her hands flew down my vest—removing it with ease—before she moved onto my shirt. Slowly, she unknotted my little necktie of sorts with a roll of her eyes. Tugging it off gently, she exposed my neck and part of my upper chest.

"The seventies called." she teased lightly, "They want their poncey neckerchief back." For a moment there, we both sat in tense silence—neither knowing what to do and unable to look away from each other's eyes. Her dark liquid eyes, now done with their 'vengeance' speal, were actually quite enchanting up-close-and-personal. Along the irises were flecks of the purest gold; giving them the appearance of a piece of tiger-eye stone.

Suddenly she leaned forward and started kissing my neck—no, not kissing my neck—caressing it with her lips. It was quite the sensual experience as she moved her way up-and-down my neck with feather-light kisses; making it difficult to breathe once again. She started kissing at the base of the neck when—bam! She hit a sensitive hot-spot that I had no clue even existed. I, of course, shivered in pleasure with a gasp in response—a distinct hitch in my throat. Her lips smiled against my skin, continuing on their erotic torturous journey along my collarbone.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" I gasped accusingly as she found yet another hot-spot I had no idea existed within a span of a few moments. She pulled away, grinning for a moment as she looked me in the face.

"Nope, but thanks for the compliment." She then recommenced her torture.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Lock to My Heart**

Browsing through my notes in my quarters in the dungeon, I came across some of my old papers from previous books. I never label them in case someone should walk in and steal them—for all they know, I might have started a creative version of 'my stories' first. Shifting through them, I found what I was looking for: Artemis Walsh.

Reading it over again, I recalled the man in perfect detail—short, squat, beady-eyed, a little hairy, and for some odd reason he smelled oddly of moldy cheese. The man didn't want to talk at first, especially to a strange man with a Quote Quill at the ready. Unlike Rita Skeeter's, my quill wrote down exactly what the person said, not what it wants to write. But finally, after much encouragement to 'get his story to the world' and 'be recognized for the hero he is'.

_Please state your name and occupation—Artemis Walsh. Zoologist._

_So Mr. Walsh, what made you go to the Alps in search of the legendary Yeti?—Well, I always was sayin' to my family 'dat 'dey existed and stuff but 'deys never believe me, so I just packed up and went._

_…_

_I stopped off in France to see my little brother, Ares, to say goodbye and all—you know. I wasn't sure I'd be seein' 'dems again, so I wanted to give 'dems a good and proper adieu. *laughs* Ares' little one—Joanna—hid in her mother's shadow 'da whole time and just gave me 'da nastiest of looks. She didn't like me very much—likes her mother._

…

I was shocked. Even though there was more to read, it was just on the man's expedition; nothing else about his family. Who'd have thought this little sidetracked character—this merely mentioned girl whom I cut out in my version of the story—would be terrorizing me years later?

***

That night after receiving a note via Owl Post about meeting the usual time at the usual place—her exact words, not mine, I readied myself for a little payback. Let's see how _she_ feels when _she_ gets a taste of her own medicine.

Almost in a repetitive rhythm, she came on the dot, took off her jacket, and slid onto my lap within a series of minutes. Removing my jacket and neckerchief (for I shall never give them up—they make me look dashing), she moved to commence kissing my neck like the night before.

"Ares' little one—Joanna—hid in her mother's shadow the whole time and just gave me the nastiest of looks." I drawled, stalling for time before I lost my nerve. She paused, looking at me with a cocked eyebrow as I said her name.

"Artemis said that." I explained, knowing I had her baited. She grinned from ear-to-ear as I nonchalantly pulled out the scroll I had written everything on; laughing softly and enchantingly.

"He actually mentioned me?" she said, taking the scroll with interest. Much to my astonishment, she didn't move from her spot on my lap as she read it over with an amused grin. "That's funny!" she laughed; placing it behind her on my desk before facing me again with a calm demeanor. This is not how I expected this to go.

"You called him your 'beloved uncle', yet he clearly states that you hated him in his own words." I confronted her, trying to make her realize the significance of this paper. She shrugged uncaringly.

"I admit I actually didn't like the man; no one in the family did. He was very strange, weird, and vaguely creepy if you ask me." I gave a disbelieving scoff with a roll of my eyes.

"Then why are you doing this if you didn't even like the man?" There flashed that stupid grin of hers—so cocky, so smug, and so aggravating.

"For family honor…" she said musingly, "…but mostly for kicks. Normally I would suspect this was a forgery or a hoax if _you're_ involved, but it's too real to not be real." she paused, "That made more sense in my head."

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, wondering why on Merlin's green earth I was doing this. Placing my hands comfortably on her hips, I became curious.

"You could have any guy you want in this school; why me?" I asked honestly without beating around the bush. Her answer surprised me:

"I deserve only the best." replied she openly before rolling her eyes, "Even if the best is the biggest dirtiest rat to ever come into existence." She ended the conversation there by starting to nibble on my ear pleasurably.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Lock to My Heart**

It was only a week after school started and I was at Hagrid's hut doing my rounds of reminding people of my reputation. He apparently was having some trouble with kelpies in his well, so I suggested the proper way to dispose of them. It was utterly shocking to see that he didn't have a single one of my books, even my homecare ones. As I was walking out of his hut, I noticed out of the corner of my eye Hermione, Harry, and Joanna helping/dragging a sick looking Ron Weasley. I acted as if I didn't see them as I turned to Hagrid with a boastful cry.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" I said loudly to Hagrid, hoping the girl could overhear, "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book—I'm surprised you haven't already got one. I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!" I made a show of striding confidently to the castle, never looking back to see if she was watching.

Upon entering the castle, McGonagall came to me with a bothered look to remind me of my detention I was hosting tonight—Potter's for his little stunt on the first day of school. I had requested Potter specifically as a part of a plan of mine. Perhaps if she knows her friend is going to be there, she won't try to come to me tonight; giving me some freedom. If it works, I might request to take any and all detentions if I know it will keep her at bay for as long as I need.

***

Harry came at 8 pm exactly, dragging his feet. He didn't look too thrilled to be having detention with me; I didn't mind. I was too preoccupied with the fear that she might show up anyway while Harry was here, ruining everything. Helping me with my fan mail, I droned on about what it's like as a celebrity to the young boy to give him a few pointers from a man of experience's point of view. It was nearly midnight when suddenly Harry stood up, in the middle of one of my stories about being a famous author, with a strange look on his face.

"_What?_" he said loudly. I was happy to hear he was just as impressed as I was.

"I know!" I said, "Six solid months at the top of the bestseller list! Broke all records!" Harry seemed to be disturbed by something else, straining to hear something I couldn't hear.

"No," he said frantically, "That voice!" I blinked blankly.

"Sorry? I said, looking puzzled, "What voice?"

"That—that voice that said—didn't you hear it?" I gave him a look of astonishment. I didn't know celebrity life would hit him so hard that he would start hearing _voices_ already. Poor boy must be more fragile than he looks.

"What _are_ you talking about, Harry? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy?" I looked at the clock hanging on the wall. It said midnight. "Great Scott—look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! I'd never have believed it—the time's flown, hasn't it?" Harry was listening intently, though to what I had no idea. He most certainly wasn't listening to me as I kindly reminded him he wouldn't get such a treat most likely if he had another detention. And like that, he was gone and heading back to Gryffindor Tower. The time was 12:05 am.

She hadn't come. It actually worked, I thought to myself with relief. Though, I probably don't want a repeat of another 'Potter-going-mad' moment like tonight's. Perhaps it would be best to leave things as they are and hope for the best.

***

**The Following Night…**

I waited for the girl to come. It was just past midnight when she came waltzing in, tossing off the invisibility cloak and her jacket onto her chair with a grin. In her hands she had the new 'Wizardly Ways' board game. It supposedly was enchanted to have the little broomstick move on their own on the board after the players roll their dice.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at her as she set it down on my desk; levitating my books and papers across the room and out of her way so she could set up the game. She shrugged casually.

"From some boy." she replied vaguely without looking me in the eye. Giving her a sharp look, my eyebrow slid up further.

"Did you steal it?" I demanded bluntly, no tone of judgment in my voice—just disapproval.

"Not _steal_ per say…more _persuaded_ him to give it to me…" My displeasure was nearly tangible on my face. Rolling her eyes in exasperation she made a face at me, "Like you have any basis to judge me 'oh _great _and _wondrous_ Gilderoy Lockhart'." She grinned toothily at me, her eyes dancing in bright humor, "_Great at stealing other people's lives, that is._ You're like a frickin' doppelganger from children's stories." Her eyes shined too brightly now, adoring her analogy of me and my life a little too much. Sadly she was right though.

"You still shouldn't take other children's things either way." I murmured, resignedly. She just rolled her eyes at me with that strange intensity of hers that made her seem both wild and elegant at the same time—like an untamable mystical creature.

"If I want something I just go and take it…take you for instance." she said as if it were the most obvious example. "I wanted payback for my family and I wanted you so…two for one."

"You wanted me?" I murmured, blinking in surprise with wide eyes. She gave me a blank look before returning to finishing setting up.

"Play with me." she ordered, sitting in her chair across from me. We played the game for the rest of the night, actually having a really nice time. I was surprised though she didn't try anything like usual. Perhaps she wasn't in the mood tonight…


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Lock to My Heart**

After the little Cornish Pixie fiasco, I decided to play it cool and just read passages from my books—reenacting some of the good bits. I usually chose Harry as my scene partner since he is always such a good sport. Joanna on the other hand would doodle incessantly in the borders and indents like there was no tomorrow. She had already completely covered _Break with a Banshee_ and _Holiday with Hags_ with her little 'decorations'. I thought for good fun, I would ask her a question on our latest text.

"Miss Walsh, where was it that I captured the last hag?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. The class turned to see her answer; they too knew that she never paid any attention in my class.

"A…" she paused, thinking deeply, "…tea strainer, I believe." she answered grinning at me broadly. Damned girl was right.

"Correct. Five points for Gryffindor. Now back to my story…"

I had gone back to retelling my tale of my adventures getting rid of all those pesky hags from the village when out of the corner of my eye, I watched Draco Malfoy lean forward on his table to whisper something in Joanna's ear. It sounded vaguely French from what I could hear. Suddenly her face brightened as she squealed with delighted enthusiasm:

"Drakey!" she declared, throwing her arms about his neck in a passionate hug. Everyone, even I, turned to look at their exchange in bewilderment. They knew each other? AND she called him _Drakey_?

Noticing our stares, she had the grace to blush pink. "Sorry…" she murmured sheepishly, "Old friend. Haven't seen each other in years." A few kids started to snicker, lightening up the mood considerably; pushing it off as another one of those weird 'French transfer student' moments that were becoming more and more frequent.

Thankfully the bell rang before I would have to get the kids back under order. Standing in one graceful, fluid movement, Draco offered his arm to her graciously.

"Shall I escort you to your next class mon ami?" she smiled, practically glowing.

"Oui Monsieur."

***

It soon spread like wildfire through the school about Draco and Joanna. Most kids found it very strange to see Draco act so familiar with a Gryffindor, never once showing any inclination to even talk to them. A rumor went about that they had been childhood sweethearts while she still lived in France; explaining why they would talk to each other exclusively in French as they walked arm-in-arm down the hallways like old chums. Suffice to say, the teachers were even intrigued by this relationship.

"Does anyone know how they met?" McGonagall asked before taking a mouthful of her shepherd's pie. Snape nodded slightly, leaning forward so he could get a good look at her as he spoke.

"Lucius and Narcissa took him to France when he was nine to see Narcissa's old friend from school." he murmured with his bored drawl, "The woman happened to have a daughter the same age as Draco—that was Joanna." He smirked suddenly at some memory.

"According to Lucius, they didn't even talk at first; refusing to spend any time together. That is, until Joanna fell into the River Sine while peering down over the side of the bridge. Draco leapt in after the girl, thus saving her life as the story goes. After that they became inseparable. Narcissa acted as chaperone as the girl led Draco by the hand all over Paris to see all the various sites."

Almost on cue, the two aforementioned students burst into the Great Hall with a round of laughter, holding hands like old friends. A few teachers who overheard the story chuckled as they watched the two of them continue their conversation intently with their heads close together; whispering secretively.

"Paris…" Professor Sprout sighed, clutching at her chest with a wistful look, "How romantic for meeting a first love." McGonagall nodded in agreement, face shining with delight as she watched the two of them together before turning back to us teacher to comment.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful to watch them fall in love all over again; then seeing them get married after they graduate?" by the look on her face, she thought it was. A few of the other teachers nodded with small smiles.

"I don't believe we have to wait for the 'fall in love part', Minerva." Flitwick giggled, gesturing to the two of them still standing at the doors.

Joanna had just given Draco a kiss on the cheek goodbye. He was positively glowing as he went off to the Slytherin table to sit by his friends. As she kissed him, I felt my stomach do an uncomfortable flip at the thought that those lips once touched me like that.

***

As soon as Joanna entered the room, as usual at midnight and slid onto my lap with a faint smirk, I asked her a question that had been bothering me ever since we started this about a month ago.

"Why is there a rule about no kissing on the lips?" She gave an annoyed roll of her eyes as if it were the simplest question and that everyone should know the answer.

"It's important to me." she explained with a sigh, placing her hands on my shoulders in a more comfortable position, "Lips are the most sensitive organ of the body and when two lips meet it's a very sensual experience that should only be shared with a select few—people that you truly and deeply care about. I just hate people who kiss others freely on the lips."

This surprised me, as she frequently did these days with how deep and serious she could be rather than that fun and playful kid who acted up in class (all in good humor of course).

"Why?" I said, wrapping my arms about her waist familiarly. It was becoming almost a routine between the two of us: she'd toss off her cloak and jacket, slipping onto my lap to tug off my neckerchief; we'd neck for a bit and then she'd leave.

"Ugh!" she groaned in exasperation, "Because when they finally do kiss someone they love, the kiss will mean practically nothing. I like to refer to them as…how do you say…?" she searched for the right word in English; her mind still stuck in French, "_sluts._"

With a sigh she shook her head, putting on a smile, "Now where were we? Ah yes…this." She leaned forward and tickled my neck with feathery kisses I had grown to enjoy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Lock to My Heart**

The following class period, there was a slight change in seating I noticed. Draco Malfoy had claimed the seat beside Joanna, where Hermione usually sat, as his own; ordering his two minions to sit at the table behind them. When Hermione went to take her usual seat, he just gave her a dirty look before returning to his intense conversation with Joanna.

"Remember that time we got caught in that huge crowd of tourists around the Notre Dame?"

"Do I?" she laughed with a grin, "It took Mum _hours_ to find us and we were just sitting there. You asked 'since its tourist season, why can't we hunt them?' I laughed, and Mum dragged us back to the villa by our ears." They burst into matching rowdy giggles before I hushed them to quiet.

This is how it was all month. Every day Draco would ask her if she remembered something about that blasted summer and she of course would remember it; elaborating on the subject. From what I overheard, they had a wild summer wrought with adventure. They went literally all over Paris, ate at strange French restaurants, saw all there was to see, and went shopping at all the best and most fabulous shops.

It was early October when Draco was waiting for her outside one of her classes. Since she didn't have Charms the same time as he did, he would wait—getting out of Transfiguration just a little bit early to escort her to their Potions class. I was making my way from the bathroom during my early prep class when I saw him standing there with an expectant look on his face. I almost walked up to him to find out what he was doing out of class early when the bell rang.

The mass of students and the wild hubbub of the crowd burst forth from various classrooms on their way to their next class before lunch. Joanna was the last to get out of Flitwick's room, calling over her shoulder to the Professor that she would 'bring in that item tomorrow'.

"Draco!" she said with surprise when she saw him. He grinned broadly, offering his arm to her as usual and as usual she took it. "So, I hear there's going to be a Quidditch match soon between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You going?" she asked. He rolled his eyes.

"Everyone at the school goes to the matches. It's almost as if it's mandatory." Smirking suddenly, she took his hand, stopping to turn to face him.

"Remember when you were afraid to ride my broomstick because you had a fear of heights?" she giggled teasingly. He sighed in exasperation, running his hand through his hair in distress; most likely thinking that he hoped none of the Gryffindors overheard that little bit of information.

"I am the Seeker for Slytherin now, I'll have you know." he said, puffing up his chest indignantly. She just rolled her eyes with a fond smile.

"And you still can't beat Gryffindor on your fancy broomsticks, no matter how hard you try." she teased, pinching his cheek. He slapped her hand away, looking even more indignant as a few first-years snickered as they went by.

"I could beat you at a game of Quidditch."

"Ha!" she laughed, "I could still beat _you_ like I did at the villa with my hands tied behind my back." They continued down the hallway, down into the dungeons, still arguing over who was the better Quidditch player—but they changed over to French. I only caught one word of it and that was Joanna calling him 'bullheaded' with distinct affection for the boy.

As they walked arm-in-arm, they looked like best mates just strolling nonchalantly together; if anyone bothered to look—and I mean really look—they would see the pang of hopeless love in Draco's eyes as he looked upon her. Almost like a puppy dog, really. She, on the other hand, seemed to think of him as just that—a good mate. Normally I would feel sorry for the boy, but there was something about him lately that just rubbed me the wrong way. Every time I see him and Joanna I just get this annoyed feeling in my chest. Perhaps it's just the smarmy look he gets as he looks about at the other boys with a 'ha-ha-lads-she's-mine' during class.

***

"So why did you move here from France?" I asked as the familiar clunk of the door shutting after an invisible person slipped in sounded in my office. I was standing near the doorway with a book in hand. It took me half an hour to make sure my pose looked dashing enough. Yanking off her cloak with a single graceful twirl, she cocked an eyebrow at me; obviously caught unawares by my question. Folding the cloak slowly, she thought it over.

"Well…Father received a transfer back to the Magical Embassy after spending close to ten years out there in Paris as a representative of the Ministry of Magic. I was about seven years old when we moved, so yes…nine or so years."

"What school did you go to before Hogwarts?"

"Beauxbatons." she replied simply, dusting off a bit of fuzz from her uniform, "Lovely uniforms. I loved the blue silk ones for summer." she smiled off in a dreamy state before snapping back. "Sorry. I was—how do you say?—_daydreaming._" I laughed, moving to stand beside her; gently helping her loosen her tie.

"I was—how do you say?—_not listening_." I teased affectionately, giving the tie a good tug. She glared up at me; pouting.

"It's hard going back and forth between languages." she grumbled, turning her face away as she turned pink in embarrassment. To ease her tension I nuzzled her neck, enjoying the moment when she shivered at my touch.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Lock to My Heart**

It was very nearly Halloween. All the kids were talking of the Feast that was to come. One morning, Joanna and Hermione were sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the Head Table where all the teachers sat, munching on toast and porridge (Joanna refused to eat porridge and instead was popping pieces of fruit into her mouth).

"Don't you think Professor Lockhart's class is so fascinating? I mean—all the things he's teaching us—"

"_No_." Joanna drawled with a smirk, "I learn more in _Professor Binns_ class and I'm usually dead asleep—no pun intended." Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.

"But he's so dashing and so…" she blushed, leaning forward to whisper though I could still hear it, "_handsome._"

"You have a crush on him?" Hermione nodded quickly, looking about to make sure nobody noticed. Ironically, I did. "_Why_?" Joanna seemed distinctly disgusted with the idea; rolling her eyes.

"He's so _brave_ and such…all those brilliant things he did…saw…" the girl gave a heartsick sigh, leaning over her porridge with a heavy heart. Again, Joanna rolled her eyes with a dramatic huff.

"I admit, I'm a sucker for the hero type myself. What girl _doesn't_ want to be the damsel in distress to some knight in shining armor? But seriously…he's like twice our age—"

"Only ten years our senior." she interjected defensively.

"Still gross." Hermione took a deep breath through her nose, letting it out slowly.

"You don't understand. You've never been in love or had a crush before." said Hermione through her teeth. Joanna paused for a moment, thinking about that.

"Yes I have." she said finally, still in deep thought, "…a long time ago." Caught in the deep recesses of memory, a faint smile crossed her lips until she noticed Hermione staring. "But that's not important. What's important is your crush is weird!"

I had to smirk at that point—the irony was too much for me. This girl 'half my age' came to me every night for a little loving and once one of her friends admits she has a crush on me, she shoots it down and calls it disgusting. It was just very funny and hypocritical.

Hermione was insisting on hearing about this 'first love'. "Who is he? Tell me!" Joanna blushed a deep mauve, covering her face so no one could see.

"I was nine! It doesn't matter." I could literally see the cogs working in Hermione's mind as she connected the dots.

"_DRACO_?" she declared with horror. Giving her a firm punch across the table, Joanna glared and told her to 'shut her mouth'. Unfortunately, the blonde Boy Wonder overheard at least a part of the conversation (as did a number of the teachers who now listened intently).

"I heard my name." he murmured, sitting in the free seat beside Joanna with a smile, "Remember that time we walked to the Eiffel Tower and had that picnic? I couldn't believe our parents trusted us enough to go there alone! And while we were there, we shared our first kiss—" Hermione's mouth dropped, as did many of my colleagues, and the students around her.

"You kissed _DRACO_?"

I was shocked personally. I knew how much a kiss meant to her, so that meant she must have felt very deeply for him. Perhaps she _still_ feels deeply for him and just knows how to hide it well.

Joanna huffed indignantly "We weren't even ten then! It was just a childish kiss—" Draco turned to her with his gray eyes intense and serious.

"It was more than that for me." McGonagall blushed, letting out a little sigh as she clutched at her heart. Joanna turned crimson, turning her eyes away from her friends, and muttered about having to talk to Dumbledore about something. Standing, she ran her hand over her face and put on a smile before walking up to the Head Table. With a polite bow, she called to Dumbledore:

"Headmaster, if I may be so bold?" she murmured, throwing him a charming smile that could have charmed a dragon into a kitten.

"You may be so bold, Miss Walsh." The Headmaster replied, his eyes twinkling in amusement at her theatrical performance.

"Professor," she began, throwing in another bright grin, "At Beauxbatons we had an old tradition of not just a Halloween Feast, but a Halloween Costume Ball for sixth and seventh-years. I think it would be a wonderful idea to start that tradition here as well. If you want, I could write to my father and he could arrange for entertainment, DJ, and everything. The teachers are _of course_ encouraged to go. It wouldn't be a party without you guys!"

Yet again I was surprised by this girl. The entire time she spoke, she kept that warm dazzling smile on her face. I had never seen her so…charismatic…before. She was pleasant, delightful, and (above all) magnetic. It made those who listened to her _want_ to hang out with her more, listen to her more, and do whatever it was she said as long as she smiled like that. I probably would have agreed more readily to our deal if she smiled like that rather then smirked deviously.

"I believe that could be arranged, Miss Walsh." Dumbledore said, turning to Minerva with a nod, "Write to Mr. Demonstro Scratch at the Ministry; tell him that I need to speak to him about that troupe of dancing skeletons I was planning on hiring and about a 'DJ' for our Halloween Ball." Joanna grinned in delight.

"You won't regret it, Professor." she declared with another grand bow that put me to shame, before running off to her first class of the day.

"Such a nice girl." Professor Flitwick squeaked, "Always so polite." My fellows nodded their heads in agreement, murmuring about what a wonderful student she was, how attentive she was in class, how many of the other students should take a page from her book. Was it only _my_ class she goofs off in? If only they knew what a minx, a vixen, a nymph this girl was.

***

She wasn't feeling well that night so she just sat on my lap and we talked. Somehow we got on the subject of music and I asked her who her favorite band was.

"ABBA." she said without hesitation, "They may be muggle, but they have some good beats. What sort of music do you like?"

"Same sort of stuff. I like how a number of ABBA's songs have a salsa beat to them." Brightening, she cocked her head in curiosity as she looked me in the eyes.

"Do you know how to salsa, Professor?" she sounded incredulous but curious. I gave her a careless shrug of my shoulders, waving my arm nonchalantly.

"Of course I do." I answered dramatically, "I was declared the Salsa King at the International Salsa Contest in Brazil." She rolled her eyes at me, looking away with a snort.

"Sayeth the Serpent." she drawled. "God, I forgot who I was talking to for a moment." Getting up with a sigh, she pulled on her jacket. "Well, I better get going. I have to finish up on my Halloween costume for tomorrow. See you later Professor." With a vague wave, she was gone and out the door.

***

I do not own ABBA nor their music. I'm just a huge fan.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: Lock to My Heart**

Before long Halloween had come; the underclassmen were a little upset that they couldn't go to the costume ball. But…they didn't matter. I was dressed as Prince Hamlet from Shakespeare's _Hamlet_. See, even I can be a serious person every once in a while in my black doublet and black tights and spectacular black cap with feather.

Some of the other teachers were not as playful in their costumes. Snape was dressed as himself, though he could have been mistaken as a vampire; McGonagall was dressed as a mad muggle cat lady; and Dumbledore had the most splendid dragon costume I had ever seen. With a press of a button, it would shoot fire from its mouth. All the other teachers were either not as interesting or just too ordinary to comment.

A loud fanfare sounded as our hostess burst through with a grin. I smacked my forehead with my palm with a weary sigh. She was dressed as a nymph. How utterly…perfect. Short flowing green chinton, silver rope details, vines, and gladiator shoes made the outfit complete. It was almost painful how alluring she looked with her eyes flashing about brightly.

"Welcome all to the first annual Hogwarts Halloween Costume Ball!" BOOM! She exploded in a cloud of flowery smoke, appearing at the DJ table. "Let's get this party started." She signaled to the DJ to begin.

Loud thumping music boomed through the Hall. The torches in their brackets burned low, a spooky blue, setting scary shadows on the spectators' faces. The students cheered in unison as they heard a familiar techno song blare with thumping base. It may just be me, but dancing sure has changed since _I_ went to school. We danced politely and properly; this hip hop just looks like sex in public with that 'bumping' and 'grinding'.

Dancing her way into the center of the floor, Joanna was enchanting to watch. I never realized before how graceful she was—like a flame almost. I would almost swear she had a bottle of Firewhiskey beforehand, except I knew she hates alcohol (it came up in conversation once). One could describe it as her being stoned by the music, intoxicated with the sounds, completely under the influence of the excitement of the crowd around her.

In the murky atmosphere, I had forgotten about Draco. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him dressed as Zeus—King of the Gods—with a thunderbolt in-hand. I rolled my eyes in disgust until I saw him prowl through the crowd, grab Joanna by the waist, and twirled her towards the outskirts; nuzzling her neck.

"How appropriate," Snape drawled with a sneer, "Zeus raping the nymph."

Joanna's face, even in this dim light, was brilliantly red. Pushing away with a squeak, she escaped into the crowd once more. For a millisecond though, it was obvious on her face as he kissed her neck, that she liked it. My chest pounded uncomfortably.

To distract myself from this uncomfortable pain, I made my way over to the DJ and requested "Voulez-vous" by ABBA (her favorite song). When it came over the speakers, she squealed, going completely insane with glee, and dashed to the center of the dance floor. Over the crowd, I could hear her singing along at the top of her lungs while throwing her arms and legs about wildly. Suddenly she turned and saw me, grinning mischievously. Before I knew it, she had grabbed my hand and dragged me out onto the floor with her.

"Dance with me!" she giggled, knowing I couldn't refuse even if I wanted to. With another grin, she turned to me as we made it to the center of the crowd.

Placing her hands on my shoulders, she started counting out the counts for a salsa with a tango flare; moving her feet accordingly. A number of the teachers laughed as they saw me fumble with the dance. Looking about in embarrassment, I noticed many of the female students glaring at her jealously. She didn't seem to care though; she was too busy trying to teach me the steps.

As I said before, she's a real good dancer but what I didn't know was she was also a really good teacher. After blundering about, she finally rolled her eyes in dismay.

"You suck as a boy, Professor." she growled in frustration. Throwing my head back in delight, I roared with laughter.

"And you're any better?" I declared with my eyes dancing with humor. She looked up at me with a completely serious face.

"Yes. Yes I am." I leaned toward her ear with a grin, making the other girls practically tremble with fury at how close I was to her.

"Well, I only took one or two classes." I admitted in a whisper, tickling her ear with my hot breath. She just rolled her eyes at me, trying to ignore the pink flush coming to her face as she took the lead.

The floor cleared as more and more people turned to look and watch as we danced. The teachers just stood by and rolled their eyes, especially Snape. Dumbledore on the other hand clapped along in time with the music with a smile. We were really getting into the swing of things as the lessons came back to me and we started doing more daring moves. At one point she spun away from me, moving her hips in a rolling motion that was actually quite erotic as she trailed her hand down her stomach. With a grin I twirled around her with a Spanish flourish, moving my feet in intricate movements; snapping my fingers with a loud: "Olay!" The kids cheered, clapping their hands in appreciation.

Every time we moved back together though, she would place her hands almost teasingly on my shoulder, my arms, my upper back, etc; her eyes daring me to wrap mine around her waist as I impulsively longed to do. I just wanted to pull her close to me like those moments we shared together, but people were watching. I had to be cautious.

Only too soon the song ended with cheers from the crowd. As soon as the music died away, Draco strode up stiffly with a grimace and stole her away; dancing the rest of the night away with her. Watching from the shadows, a smile crossed my lips as a thought occurred to me: No matter how hard he tried, he knew he could never compare to the moment I shared with her.

***

The dance ended around midnight; the enchanted ceiling overhead glowing with the light of the magic-made moon. With a little speech about everyone going to bed before we all died of a bellyache from too much candy, Dumbledore sent the students on their way back to their dormitories. I, myself, had planned to go back to my office to plan for the girl's visit tonight.

Up ahead, I heard shouts of horror from young mouths; a large congregation forming in the corridor. I pushed my way to the front of the mass, my feet splashing in the water that covered the floor, and found before me a most mystifying scene. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who I hadn't seen at the Feast or Dance, were standing stock-still frozen beside a just-as-stiff Mrs. Norris tied to a torch post. On the wall, written in a red paint of some sort, were the words "The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened. Enemies Of The Heir, Beware." Very spooky stuff.

I turned to see where Joanna had gone, only to see her standing beside that Draco Malfoy. He grinned as he shouted out through the quiet:

"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next Mudbloods." His pale eyes shined brightly with an eager flush to his ordinarily pale cheeks. Grinning, he went to grab her hand familiarly. With a disgusted roll of her eyes, she tossed his hand away; obviously not agreeing with his words. I felt really giddy suddenly, only to be brought down again by Argus Filch bursting through the crowd with a shout.

"What's going on here? What's going on?" When he saw Mrs. Norris, he fell back and clutched at his face in horror, "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he screamed. Suddenly his eyes fell on Harry. "_You_!" he screeched, "_You_! You've murdered my cat! You've murdered her! I'll kill you! I'll—"

A familiar voice called out over the crowd. "_Argus_!" Dumbledore arrived with a number of the other teachers. Within the blink of an eye, he was already past the three students and inspecting Mrs. Norris; kindly detaching her from the post.

"Come with me Argus," he murmured in a quiet soothing voice, "You too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."

Stepping forward eagerly, I had the sudden urge to look important and helpful in front of Joanna; proving I'm not a complete nincompoop.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free—" I declared cordially, ready to go into a whirlwind offer full of wondrously eloquent words that would have made Shakespeare himself weep from the beauty of it. Dumbledore interjected though, killing my thunder.

"Thank you, Gilderoy."

The sea of students parted to let us pass—the other students (i.e. Joanna) were told to head back to their dormitories to go to sleep. With a look over my shoulder, I watched her turn down the hall to head to the portrait of the Fat Lady (yes I know the secret entrance to Gryffindor. I'd been there a few times. I myself was in Ravenclaw though). Professors Snape and McGonagall trailed behind me as did the three children as we strode to my office.

As we entered my darkened room, a flurry of movement across the walls told me that a number of my paintings had forgotten to take out their rollers before I came—not that I use rollers to make _my_ hair curly…alright I do, but it's not like I use a _hairnet_. With a wave of my wand, I lit the candles on my desk and stepped back with a theatrically grave face for the event. Dumbledore _had_ to lay that disgustingly creepy dead cat on my table to get a better examination of her as the kids stood by with tense postures—telling me there was something they were hiding—as they stood outside the pool of light.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris' fur—I bet she smelled revolting like her owner (though I would never say it out loud). His long fingers gently poked and prodded the cat—almost like he was checking to see if it was alive. Even I could tell it was dead.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her—probably the Transmogrifian Torture." I murmured to break the silence; never forgetting that I had an appearance to keep up, "I've seen it used so many times, so unlucky I wasn't there. I know the very counter-curse that would have saved her…" for some odd reason, this did not comfort Filch, he only sobbed some more.

Dumbledore continued on his examination, muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand; but nothing happened. Personally, I think she looked like she had been stuffed.

"…I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou." I said, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography. I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets which cleared the matter up at once…"

At last Dumbledore stood straight up. "She's not dead, Argus." He said softly. What a dramatic delivery! So intense and intimate—he had his audience on the edge of our seats. I lost count of the numbers of deaths I had prevented, though, when he said this.

"Not dead?" choked the caretaker, "But why's she all—all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said the Headmaster (Ah! I thought so!" I interjected). "But how, I cannot say…"

"Ask _him_!" shrieked Filch, turning his ugly tear-stained face toward Harry with an accusatory glare.

"No second-year could have done this." Replied Dumbledore firmly, bringing the grief-stricken man back to earth, "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—"

"He did it, he did it!" the poor man repeated over and over until his face turned purple. It was rather pathetically sad really. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found—in my office—he knows I'm a—I'm a—" he made a face, "He knows I'm a Squib!" That was shocking, but not really surprising. The man had no talent at all in magic.

"I never _touched_ Mrs. Norris!" Harry declared a little too loudly and too defensively, "And I don't even know what a Squib _is_."

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch, "He saw my Kwikspell letter!" Snape stepped forward, bringing to the procession a forbidding felling with the cruel half-smile glimmering around the corners of his lips.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," he said, "Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time." A slight sneer curled his lips, showing he thought otherwise, "but we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Halloween feast?"

The three of them flew into an explanation about some Deathday Party for one of the ghosts—Sir What's-his-name of Gryffindor. Something to do with hundreds of ghosts could attest to it and such—very desperate.

"But why not join the feast afterwards?" Snape said, his black eyes glittering darkly in the candlelight—why did he hate Harry so much?—, "Why go up to that corridor?"

Ron and Hermione turned to look at Harry with expectant looks—whatever he was going to say, they would go along with it.

"Because—because—" he stammered with a troubled look, "because we were tired and wanted to go to bed."

"Without any supper?" a triumphant grin flickered across the Professor's face, "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"We weren't hungry." Ron said quickly, his stomach rumbling as he said this. Snape's smile turned positively nasty.

"I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said, "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest."

That seemed a little harsh to me—taking him off a sports team and all. For all we know, he just didn't want to say he was planning on having a threesome with his friends…I wouldn't be surprised since they hang out with Joanna.

"Really, Severus," said McGonagall sharply—always the voice of reason, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore stared at Harry for a long pause.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus." The Headmaster replied firmly. Snape was furious and so was Filch.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping out of his head, "I want to see some _punishment_!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus." Dumbledore said patiently, "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris." I jumped in, taking my cue.

"I'll make it." I butted in, "I must have done it a hundred times, I could wipe up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Excuse me," Snape said icily, "but I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

A very awkward pause fell over the small crowd. I dared not look at Snape, full well knowing the look of fury that would be in his eyes if I did.

"You may go." Dumbledore told the students. Within a blink, they were out the door and gone.

***

I do not own ABBA as I said before or their music.

*note to reader. This is one of the moments where some dialogue was taken straight out of the second book.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: Lock to My Heart**

The November winds blew about the school, whipping the winds with their mournful sighs as the last of the leaves made their final adieus. All that blew through the halls of Hogwarts though, was the discussion of the attack on Mrs. Norris. Without fail, Joanna came; having to sneak by Filch guarding the scene of the crime with red piercing eyes. Even without his cat, he was still a nuisance.

She snickered as she closed the door behind her, tossing aside her cape carelessly. I had already removed my jacket and neckerchief to save her some time. We hadn't seen each other in at least a week. I might as well give her some indulgence.

"Did you hear about the so-called 'Chamber of Secrets' that's supposed to be hidden in the school?" she snorted, striding toward me with a roguish grin as she crawled onto my lap.

"You don't believe in it?" I replied, mildly surprised, leaning back as she fought with her tie to come off. Scoffing with a sneer, she laughed:

"Not at all; it's too fantastical to be real." I nodded my head in agreement with a mild smile; it made sense with that logic. "I refuse to believe it almost as much as I refuse to read those blasted books of yours." she added with a smirk on those soft pink lips.

I gasped in horror and outrage. "You've never read my books! Not even your _uncle's_ story?" She shook her head with a shrug.

"Nope, I just copy the answers off of Hermione. If I did read them, I'd get pissed and I'd have to maim you quite severely." she said with a completely sober face. Seeing my shocked terrified look, she grinned. "Well don't make me read the books then." she replied simply, wrapping her arms around me with another smile, a gentler one, as she tickled my jugular with light kisses.

At her caress, my head felt light and dizzy, a pleasant shiver running down my spine. It was a sensation oddly like drowning in water yet it was intoxicating. Strange, isn't it?

***

We had moved onto one of my favorite books, _Wanderings with Werewolves_. I was working on reenacting the moment I battled the werewolf for the last time—life or death situation—and turned the poor fellow back into a human.

"Nice loud howl, Harry—exactly—and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced—like this—_slammed_ him to the floor—" I rather enjoyed this part. The rest of the class seemed to as well, "thus—with one hand, I managed to hold him down—with my other, I put my wand to his throat—I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm—he let out a piteous moan—" Harry refused to play along, "go on, Harry—higher than that—good—the fur vanished—the fangs shrank—and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective—and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

As the bell rang, I sprang to my feet with a grin. "Homework: compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga werewolf!" I called, "Signed copies of _Magical Me_ to the author of the best one!" The class left, except for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Joanna. Joanna had a smirk on her face as they walked up to me; that never was a good sign.

"Er—Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered, "I wanted to—to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the paper for me to read, her hand shaking slightly, "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it—I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in _Gaddling with Ghouls_ about slow-acting venoms…"

"Ah, _Gaddling with Ghouls_!" taking the note from her and smiling widely, "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?" Joanna rolled her eyes at me, behind her friends' backs—making me feel anxious.

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly, "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer…" Joanna mouthed the words 'sign the damn paper' with a silent groan behind their backs. I gulped, going back into hero-mode with a grand smile.

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student in the year a little extra help," I said warmly with a charming smile as I pulled out my enormous peacock quill. Ron made a face. "Yes, nice, isn't it? I usually save it for book signings."

Giving the paper an enormous loopy signature that anyone could recognize from a mile away, I handed it back to Hermione with a smile.

"So Harry," I said to keep them there for a little longer, "tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a seeker, too." Joanna's eyes rolled back into her head, barely muffling her scoffing groan with the back of her hand, "I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass my expertise to less able players…"

With a little sound, Harry was off and after his friends. Joanna lingered for a little while at the door before turning with a smirk.

"I'd like to see you on a broomstick, Professor." she smirked. She always could see through my lies.

***

Joanna turned in her homework a little early; placing it on my desk by the end of the day. The title of the poem was 'Moonlit Emotions'. I had only to read the first few stanzas to know that she was mocking me. The entire thing was supposed to be from my point of view and it depicted 'my' forbidden passion for the man/werewolf and how I longed to 'make love to him in the moonlight'. The final stanza, for I couldn't stop after starting, described as we 'finally fell victim to our passions' and had sex.

It's bad enough that she refuses to read my books but when she turns in a paper I assign, does she _have_ to make it a gay porno? The sad part was, though her descriptions were graphic, they were really good. At the very bottom of the paper was scrawled a little smiley face with the words: "See you tomorrow at the match!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven: Lock to My Heart**

Saturday morning as we walked down to the pitch the wind was nipping at our ears angrily as the school strode down as one. I could hear a number of students betting on who was going to win. The overall consensus was that Slytherin on their faster brooms was the more likely one. A rush of air whipped past the teachers walking together as Joanna and a number of the Gryffindors dashed by with wide grins. Loudly she roared, imitating a lion, as she passed by me; scaring me out of my wits if I do say so myself.

"Strange children." I muttered darkly under my breath, pulling my jacket tighter about me to hold out the chilly wind.

"Come now, Gilderoy." Dumbledore chuckled, watching as she twirled about in the fallen leaves like an imp, "She's just having some good fun before the game."

"I wonder who she'll cheer for: Draco or Harry." McGonagall commented mildly, making me wonder as well. Who _was_ she going to cheer for? Which friend meant more to her? _Was_ Draco more to her or was her loyalty with her house?

As Gryffindor entered the grounds, the crowd cheered and roared. With my magical binoculars, I saw Joanna cheered as well. Guess she was going to cheer for her house. I gave a sigh of relief as the Slytherins hissed at the Gryffindor team viciously. Out came Slytherin around the same time. A round of boos from the one side and applause from the other. Once again Joanna was cheering; calling out Draco's name in good cheer. My jaw tightened into a scowl.

The team captains shook hands tensely. With a whistle blow, they took to the sky. Even on their faster brooms, Slytherin definitely couldn't compare to the skill of the Gryffindor team. Harry was actually a very talented Seeker—one of the best I've seen. The way he dodged out of the way of that Bludger…wait, it was going back for him again. Are they supposed to do that? From Dumbledore's reaction, I'd say no.

One of the Weasley twins hit the Bludger hard toward Malfoy but it kept going for Harry; no matter how many times and how skillfully he would dodge the ball, it would come back to him—going for his head or any place it could get him. Suddenly it started to rain in big heavy drops. I was glad I didn't wear my silk slippers as I originally planned; they would have been ruined in this weather.

The score was 60-0 in favor of Slytherin. Harry constantly had to flee from that ball with both of the twins on either side trying to protect him. With a mad wave, a Weasley twin signaled to Wood for a time out; to which he replied almost instantly. Huddling together, we couldn't hear their discussion but it was obviously intense; angry gestures were made and irritated words were said but they still decided to play.

Harry kept flying higher and higher, making more desperate dodges as the rogue Bludger tried to attack him wherever he went. As Slytherin went to go for another goal, I watched Draco torment Harry above our heads with unheard jeers and sneers. I could literally hear the gasp come from the crowd as they realized that the Snitch was flying right by Draco's ear as he gloated over Harry's predicament. For a moment, Harry just hovered there, staring at Draco in awe.

WHAM! The Bludger had hit his elbow and hit it hard, shattering it with a crack. Flinching at the gunshot-like sound, I glanced to see Joanna's reaction to this with my binoculars. Shielding her eyes with her fingers, she was unable to look. She looked like she was going to be sick. The Bludger was coming back in for him again.

Streaking toward the blonde bastard, Harry scared the witless wonder into swerving out of his way. Making a mad grab, Gryffindor's Seeker wrapped his fingers about the Golden Snitch. With his good hand clutching the Snitch, and his other arm hanging useless, Harry dove down to the ground with a sickening smack in the mud. Holding up the Snitch in triumph for a moment, Harry fell back into a faint.

Within a matter of seconds the stands cleared as faculty and students rushed onto the field. At the front of the procession were his three friends leading the way. Falling to her knees, not caring about the thick mud that splashed up onto her pristine uniform, Joanna gently tapped Harry's cheek with her palm.

"Harry? Harry?" she murmured, the strain in her voice almost tangible as she gazed at the grotesque angle his arm hung at. Searching the faces crowding around her she cried: "Can anyone help?!"

I raised my hand before I knew what happened and walked myself to her and knelt beside her; forgetting about my new jade-green robes I just had tailored for my next book signing. She gazed into my eyes pleadingly, begging me to do something for him. How could I refuse such eyes? With a flutter of his eyelids, Harry awoke to my reassuring smile.

"Oh no, not you," the boy moaned, attempting to roll away from me with a sharp hiss of pain.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," I said loudly so everyone could hear, "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm." murmured I, to set the boy's mind at ease.

"_No_! I'll keep it like this, thanks…" The boy tried to sit up gallantly, most likely to impress the ladies with his stamina and such…I would have done the same thing in his predicament. The pain was too much for him though, his face contorting in agony as that boy with his camera danced about taking photos of all this. "I don't want any pictures of this, Colin." Harry sighed irritably.

"Lie back, Harry," I said soothingly, gently pressing him onto his back. Joanna, still sitting beside me, sat breathlessly watching. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times." I reassured him in the gentlest of tones. One of my teachers once said, my voice could calm a viper if I spoke sweet enough—not that Harry's a viper or anything. It's just a metaphor.

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" Harry half-begged through clenched teeth gnashed together in anguish. I very well couldn't leave the boy like that, not with everyone watching. Joanna placed an anxious hand on my sleeve, biting her lip as she looked down at her friend. I didn't even hear the sounds of the team captain speaking in that moment. I prepared myself for the spell with a little nod to myself.

"Stand back," I ordered, rolling up my sleeves before twirling my wand in the appropriate gesture for fixing bones; pointing it directly at the injury.

"No—don't—" Harry said weakly.

The change was almost instant, though not the one I had intended. Joanna gasped as she watched Harry's arm change from flesh and bones to…well…boneless. It was just his arm though! Her eyes shot to me, her mouth open with shock.

"Ah." I gulped, "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the Hospital Wing—" I turned to find two particular faces in the group surround me, "ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him?—and Madam Pomfrey will be able to—er—tidy you up a bit."

His two friends helped him to his feet, as did Joanna. She just shot me this annoyed roll of her eyes for messing up…again. She liked to tease me about the incident with the Pixies though she wasn't there. Glancing at his arm as he stood, Harry looked like he was going to be sick. Luckily, Hermione and Ron stumbled off before too much fuss was made.

Soon normal chatter returned among the students as they praised Harry for his spectacular catch; the three other houses teasing Slytherin for losing. Trailing behind her class, Joanna rolled her eyes at me with an amused smirk.

"You really _can't _do anything, can you?" she whispered to me with another grin as we fell back from the rest of the school, "Now Harry's going to have to stay in the Hospital Wing all night because of you and regrow his bones."

"Shut up." I growled under my breath with a scowl, feeling my cheeks flush a pale crimson. I dared not to look at her as I spoke. What if someone saw us talking familiarly like this? Running ahead with a sudden burst of energy, she tossed a smirk over her shoulder as she ran to catch up with Draco.

With a frustrated sigh, I dragged my feet as I entered the school from the pouring rain. This day could not get any worse, I thought bitterly in my mind. I was wrong.

There was another attack: Colin Creevy.

***

Joanna came to me the following night like nothing had happened—I know many of the students wouldn't dare go anywhere alone after what transpired.

"Someone is taking this little prank too seriously." she drawled with a weary sigh, "It took me half-an-hour to dodge that stupid Filch to get here. It's just a silly folklore to scare children late at night." Feeling tense still from the news of the attack, I sought comfort in her embrace; nuzzling her neck with a sigh.

"It's not just a 'children's story'. Dumbledore himself informed all the teachers of the situation…" I left out the part about this apparently had happened fifty years ago, "He just doesn't want to frighten the students." I concluded with another weary sigh into her neck. She considered this for a moment before shaking her head.

"I don't believe you. I don't know _when_ to believe you." she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a huff. Rolling my eyes, I snorted. She had a point there. With another sigh, I buried my face in her hair, trailing the tip of my nose along her collarbone. I could feel her swallow hard, taking shallow breaths.

"You smell nice…like lavender…" I murmured softly against her skin, "…I like it." An idea came to me suddenly as I sat there enjoying her comfort, her closeness, her contact—an idea that would impress her and regain my honor among those who saw my little…fiasco...today.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve: Lock to My Heart**

The snow outside was piling high. It was hard to believe that it was the third week of December already. The Weasley twins were trying to enchant their matching snowmen to life—placing snowballs in their stick hands so once their spell worked, they could teach them to throw snowballs at the other kids. Slowly, twilight fell upon the land, covering the white expanse with hues of purple and deep blues. Now was the time for action.

With a flourish, I walked into the Great Hall-turned-Dueling-Chamber and across the stage. I flashed them a great smile, bowing graciously as my colleague and assistant for this, trailed behind me. So strange how Professor Snape literally jumped up in his seat, eagerly, to be my dueling partner when I proposed the idea to the Headmaster.

I called across the mass of students, waving my arm for silence: "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my published works." I added. There's no harm in doing a little advertising in the middle of a lesson.

"Let me introduce" I declared, catching their attentions with my mere voice, "my assistant Professor Snape." I flashed a wide smile as the Professor gave a small nod to the students congregated about the stage. I searched among them for a familiar face, "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin."

Suddenly, I found her—Joanna—she was standing near the edge of the stage with a big grin on her face. "Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" Snape gave me a smile, or at least he _attempted_ to smile at me. I guess not everyone could have a charming smile like me.

Turning to face each other we bowed. I gave a grand and deep bow, full of twirling of my arms. Snape, on the other hand, merely inclined his head slightly. With that formality set aside, we raised our wands like muggles raise their swords—ready to fight. I admit, I had never dueled in my life and was nervous but I knew a number of spells…that I _sometimes_ can pull off.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position." I explained to the silent crowd, "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course. One—two—three—"

As one, we swung our arms over our heads. "_Expelliarmus_!" cried the Potions master—a flash of scarlet and I was blasted off my feet; completely thrown backwards and off the stage. The room blurred by as I flew back, painfully smashing against the wall and slid slowly to the floor with a thud. My vision blurred and blackened for a moment as I slumped.

I got unsteadily to my feet, feeling weak in the knees, slightly nauseous, and extremely sore but I had a show to keep up.

"Well, there you have it!" I declared, struggling back onto the platform; noticing I had lost my wand. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I've lost my wand—" a breathless student of mine handed it to me with a deep blush, "ah, thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…" I saw Snape's murderous glance, gulping internally, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me…"

Striding down the set of steps to the platform, holding myself erect and proud in the stance of the hero, I moved first to Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley; I pairing them together. Next I moved onto Joanna standing beside a Ravenclaw girl from her year. Snape made his own pairs of Weasley/Finnigan; Potter/Malfoy; Granger/Bulstrode; and many more. With my work done, I climbed back onto the stage.

"Face your partners!" I called over the chattering spreading between the pairs, "and bow!" The students did as they were told, some looking ready to attack their partner at the drop of a hat. "Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent—_only_ to disarm them—we don't want any accidents. One…two…three…"

My eyes were on Joanna during this, biting my thumbnail intently. It was time to see what little Miss Frenchie could do against one of the best spellcasters in the entire school. She was actually fending for herself quite well; casting a Shielding Charm on herself instead of the Disarming Charm as I said. The girl was taken off-guard as her own spell bounced back on her. It was then I heard Harry shout: "_Rictusempra_!" The Tickling Charm.

"_I said disarm only_!" I shouted as Malfoy fell to his knees. In a moment, Malfoy hit Harry with the Dancing Legs Charm that makes the receiver dance until they are released or died from exhaustion. "Stop! Stop!" I screamed but Snape took charge before I could do anything. Casting "_Finite Incantatem_!", both spells and their effects stopped instantly.

The room was in utter chaos from different spells, obviously not the one they were to use, and there was a strange green haze hovering over the room. I shuddered to look at the pandemonium as many of the students nursed severe injuries caused by their partners and fellow classmates.

"Dear, dear," I muttered, helping where I could "Up you get, Macmillian…. careful there, Miss Fawcett…"

I came to Joanna standing over the Ravenclaw girl I paired her with, smirking as the girl struggled to stop the bleeding from her broken nose.

"…pinch it hard," I murmured gently to her, catching Joanna's twinkling eye for a moment, "it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot…" Walking my way thorough the room I came to a conclusion.

"I think I'd better teach you how to _block_ unfriendly spells." I said, running my hand through my blonde locks with a flustered sigh. I looked over at Snape; originally planning on asking him to help me demonstrate on how to block a spell, but his eyes…I changed my mind and quickly looked away. "Let's have a volunteer pair—" I looked for the nearest pair near me who weren't too badly injured. "Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," Snape drawled as he glided toward me, swooping like a bat through the parting sea of students before him. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a match box." Poor Longbottom's face turned a horrid pink in embarrassment. If the stories from his other classes are true, I wouldn't doubt it. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said the Potions master with a twisted grin.

Personally, I loved the idea. For one, it was very dramatic: these two obviously hated each other by the way they are constantly at each other's throats; probably about being in rival houses or something. I really didn't care—I just liked the tension. Second, it was Harry. I love Harry; we celebrities have to stick together. Finally, I actually was rather hoping that Harry would finish off Draco…don't know why, I just did.

"Excellent idea!" I said, gesturing the two boys into the middle of the hall. Taking Harry aside, I told him: "Now, Harry when Draco points his wand at you, you do _this_." I waved my wand with an elaborate wiggle, trying to remember the most complicated spell I knew. Unfortunately, I dropped it. "Whoops—my wand is a little over-excited." I chuckled it off; internally, I was kicking myself. I must look like a total moron to these children right now.

"Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?" Harry said nervously. Standing so close to a star like me must be too stimulating for him. Giving him a brotherly cuff on the shoulder, I smiled at the boy.

"Just do what I did, Harry!" Harry muttered something, but I didn't hear it. "One—two—three—go!" I shouted. Malfoy raised his wand quickly with a loud bellow of '_Serpensortia_!' The end of his wand exploded it seemed as a long black snake shot out of it, falling heavily onto the floor between the two duelists. Raising itself, the snake looked ready to strike with teeth bared—causing the crowd to scream in a panic, rushing back towards the walls and away from the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," drawled Professor Snape with a roll of his eyes, a bright gleam to them at seeing Harry frozen in terror. I would've been the same if I stood eye to eye with such a horrid beast. "I'll get rid of it…"

"Allow me!" I declared, brandishing my wand with a grand flourish. With a loud bang the snake flew ten feet in the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. A little bit of a mix up on my part on the correct wand movement between 'vanish' and 'raise', I will admit. The enraged snake slithered straight towards one of the boys—Finch-Fletchley—and raised itself, poising itself to strike.

Almost as if in a dream, Harry strode confidently right up to the snake and yelled at it in a strange hissing language. Hearing his voice, the creature paused and slumped to the floor with the docility of a church mouse; its eyes trained on Harry as if it were a servant staring at its master in await of orders. Looking up from the snake, satisfied, he grinned cheekily at the other boy with an expectant look. Justin though was anything but livid.

"What do you think you're playing at?" the boy shouted, turning and storming out of the Hall in a fury.

I watched after this in mild shock while Snape took the initiative to step forward, waving his wand to make the snake disappear into a cloud of black smoke. Everyone stood with a look of mild fright towards Harry, mutterings fluttering about the room with whispers of 'Slytherin' and 'Parseltongue'. That was it…Harry is a Parselmouth like Salazar Slytherin…quite an unexpected turn of events. Do you think perhaps…? No…

Before anything could be said to him, Harry's two friends came up and tugged him away; steering him out of the Hall in quite a hurry. People drew away on either side of the group, parting in a straight pathway like people trying to avoid a plague, until they were out the doors and gone. It was safe to say that this was going to be the first and only meeting of the Dueling Club after tonight.

"Who would like to volunteer to help me clean up?" I murmured, breaking the tension that had built as we stared after Harry and his friends in awe. Almost all the girls' hands shot up. Much to my surprise, Joanna was one of them. Picking her, I heard a few girls sigh in disappointment, heading off to their respective dormitories.

I lingered back in the Main Hall as people left. Professor Snape was making sure that all the students headed to their proper dormitories and not somewhere they weren't supposed to be (i.e. a broom closet to snog). Waiting until the door shut behind the last person, I turned to her with a cocked eyebrow.

"I never knew you could duel like that." I murmured, not hiding the impressed tone in my voice. She smiled back at me. Genuinely smiled, not smirked or grinned mischievously…just _smiled_. It was strange; she seemed more unrealistically beautiful when she did that. I sometimes wondered if she was really human.

"I've had plenty of practice." she explained with good humor, " The French are willing to fight and die for the silliest littlest squabble. Unfortunately," she admitted, leaning dangerously close to me, "I'm just as stubborn."

***

After cleaning up, I decided we might as well just head straight over to my office since it was nearly the time anyway. Joanna stepped lightly beside me as we walked shoulder-to-shoulder; not making a sound. Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I realized I had never noticed how liquid, how graceful she moved. Her every movement was large and perfectly balanced—like that of a prima ballerina. The pale moonlight cast silvery shadows across her face, making her seem both wild and elegant at the same time.

That was a good way to describe her—both wild and elegant. She almost was like a nymph in Greek mythology—an ethereal beauty without parallel; as free as the wind blew and as enchanting as the sound of a waterfall. I know I said it before, but I like to picture her like this.

"Gilderoy?" a familiar voice called from behind us as we walked (and I stared); nearly at my office door. I froze in my tracks, tensing up guiltily.

"Yes Headmaster?" I replied, turning to him with a put-on cheery face. Even in my darkest hours, I knew a smile did wonders in tense situations.

"Might I ask what Miss Walsh is doing outside of her dormitory at this time of night, Gilderoy?" Dumbledore asked seriously, holding my gaze with his piercing blue eyes. I kept my glance steady with his, internally shaking like a leaf; from the outside I was calm, cool, and collected.

"Oh, Miss Walsh?" I replied nonchalantly resting my weight on one hip; giving him a small smile again, "She just needed my help in my Dueling Club. You know students are always welcome in my door…" I kept my face calm and placid as Dumbledore stared at me searchingly with those piercing eyes before nodding his head.

"Very well then Professor. Just be sure to return her personally to her dormitory at a decent hour."

"Yes sir." I replied, nodding my head in agreement; clearing my throat uncomfortably as I fumbled with my wand to unlock my door. When I finally had unlocked the damned thing, Professor Dumbledore was already gone and out of sight.

I was breathing heavily as Joanna closed the door behind her with a snap after I rushed inside. Clicking her tongue in disapproval while wagging her finger at me like a pendulum, she murmured:

"Shame, shame Professor!" she cried mockingly, "Aren't you supposed to be the role model of… _integrity_ and _truth _to us mere children?" she said, raising her eyebrows with a stern reprimanding frown. I barked a laugh at that, plopping painfully down on my new couch in my office by the only window; splaying myself majestically across it after tearing off my overcoat.

"_You _are not a child." I declared, snorting at her comment, "At least you don't act like one." She simply grinned, moving to stand beside me with her hands on her hips. "That's not supposed to be a compliment." I stated, sensing her amusement at my words.

"Coming from you it is." she replied teasingly, moving to sit on the arm of the couch and gently placed my head on her lap. My body tensed at the sudden closeness. I had to get rid of this uncomfortable feeling somehow.

"Besides," I murmured, a little too fervently as I looked away from her eyes, "You yourself have pointed out that I am a _completely _untrustworthy man who deserves to be hanged for my crimes against humanity." She positively grinned at me, playfully running her fingers through my hair.

"That's correct. You are an utterly ruthless man without any morals and I love it." Her fingers trailed down my chest, making me hiss as she hit one of my bruises. Giggling, she rolled her eyes at me in amusement.

"I can't believe you thought you could actually duel against Professor Snape." she teased tenderly, "He could kick your butt without raising his wand—that's how badass he is. He just was _kind _enough not to." She laughed. I sulked, crossing my arms carefully so-as not to move too much; jutting out my bottom lip in a full pout. She became thoughtful for a moment, lost in the recesses of that unfathomable mind of hers.

"It was kind of freaky watching Harry speak Parseltongue though…" she grinned wistfully, "I wish I could speak Parseltongue. That'd be so _cool_!" I had to crane my neck up to give her an impressive cocked eyebrow.

"Why in the bloody hell would you want to talk to snakes?" I declared, giving her a strange look. She shrugged, her eyes dancing as she gazed back at me.

"Because snakes are cool! I still don't see why we can't have a pet snake at school…" she paused before adding randomly: "I want a pet snake." I rolled my eyes at her, sitting up with a sigh. I felt the splitting headache that Zeus must have felt before Athena was born out of his head.

"I seriously think you were miss-sorted." I said as she slid onto my lap, reminding her: "You're a _Gryffindor_! You should want something like a lion or a dog…something noble."

"Snakes are noble." I rolled my eyes and tugged off her tie as she moved in towards me. Much to my surprise, her fingers did more than unknot my neckerchief tonight.

Nimbly, they flew down my vest and shirt until both of them were unbuttoned and open. Gently slipping them off, the faintly showing contusions from Professor Snape's attack during our duel became apparent and made them seem all the more painful in my mind.

"Poor Professor." she cooed teasingly before leaning down to tenderly kiss each of the bruises with her lips. For an instant I had completely forgotten how to breathe as her hot breath blew over me in sensuous waves. Moving away for a moment she smiled.

"Where does it hurt?" she murmured softly, her eyes glittering faintly with something I had never seen before—something that excited me. I pointed to the palm of my wand hand (my right) where I scrapped it sliding down the stone wall. She grinned, leaning forward slowly and kissed it. I pointed to my shoulder next, right by my collarbone specifically. Her lips smiled against my skin as she leisurely and sensually made her way up my arm and across my chest to where I had pointed; feathering my body with feather-light kisses as she went.

"That better?" she said with a husky voice; gazing deeply into my eyes a mere inch away as she slid her fingers down my chest, feeling the curves of my muscles with her fingertips. I gulped, unable to speak; torn by an overwhelming desire to break the distance and seize her lips.

Pushing me back, she kissed all over my body; driving me wild with desire. Never had any woman in my life made me so…aroused—almost to a completely primal level deep within me. Reaching up, I tugged at her shirt; unfastening the white oxford to reveal the sexy lilac silk teddy underneath. Only pausing for a moment to cock an eyebrow at her, I skimmed my hands along her voluptuous curves; her soft, soft skin. She shivered pleasantly at my touch, making me smile and want to explore more; to find out what _her_ weaknesses were.

She recaptured my attention by distracting me by insisting on nuzzling my throat with her lips. I couldn't leave this moment to chance. Turning my face into her neck, I found a weak spot right behind her ear. A slight hitch came in her voice as I caressed this spot, her body tensing against me as her head tossed back in ecstasy. I smiled.

"So _that's_ your kryptonite…" I joked, referencing this old muggle comic I read once as a boy. Cocking her head at an angle, she looked back at me blankly. "Never mind." I returned to my exploration of her, finding more interesting things out as my fingertips probed and investigated everywhere. Sliding my hands down her body, they made their way down to her lower half; fighting with the zipper of her skirt.

As this happened, she pulled away with a smirk. "I better be getting back before I'm missed." she murmured firmly, sensing that I was probably going to protest. "My roommates must think I'm meeting some boyfriend in the middle of the night to snog."

"Isn't that what we're doing?" I said with a faint smile. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Not really the same." Before anything else could be said, she disappeared out the door.

It took me a while to calm myself, to get my heart to stop pounding in my ears like a surging drum; overall, to get a hold on my raging emotions. Something had changed tonight, though whether or not it was good was questionable. And oddly, I was intrigued.

***

The news of the attack on Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick swept like wildfire through the student population. Teachers were tense, thin-lipped, and edgy to the point of breaking. When I informed Joanna of it that night, she paled—swallowing nervously—and asked how they were doing.

"Petrified." I replied plainly. There was no other way to describe it. She actually started looking a little scared about all this. Perhaps she was beginning to believe in the 'children stories' she scoffed only nights ago.

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she bit her lip nervously; her lovely tapered eyes were troubled deeply as she became serious.

"Did you hear that they think _Harry's_ the heir of Slytherin?" she stated, almost to herself, "I refuse to believe it. He's too noble and he himself is a half-blood, so why?" she gushed out these passionate thoughts; shaking her head in frustration.

I was surprised by how intensely and deeply she thought about some things. I guess I took her playful personality for granted. It was oddly refreshing; normally she is this light and bright thing that is wild and free like the breeze; now she was focused and concentrated. We just sat there and talked the whole night through this situation; debating the points on whether or not Harry was the heir.

***

Another dialogue pilfering moment. Sorry J.K. I like parallel stories.

Now people understand why it has a mature rating. The rest of the chapters progressively get worse. *grins* I wanted to build up the relationship before anything happened.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen: Lock to My Heart**

The smells of the Christmas dinner was heavenly; the mounds of potatoes, the tender pot roasts that fall apart if you gaze at them too sharply, etc. My mouth was watering all day as I waited for night to come; the smells too enticing for the mind to ignore.

There were only about thirty of us, not counting the twenty or so teachers who came and went to Hogsmeade as swiftly as a breeze. Since there were so few of us, Dumbledore declared that we will only use one table for the festivities. It didn't seem strange then when I took a seat on Joanna's left side while her friends sat across from us (Hermione shooting Joanna jealous glances). Unfortunately Draco took her right, making her look like she was flanked by the two of us like two mismatching blonde bookends.

Loud pops ensued when the Wizard Crackers came out. Potter reluctantly pulled one with me; telling me whatever came out, that I could keep it. Much to my delight, it was a clever little wizarding cap the color of midnight blue—just the hat I needed to complete my new midnight blue robes I had made to bring out the color of my eyes. Taking advantage this moment of chaos, Draco took Joanna's hand with a smile.

"I have a gift for you, Joanna." he murmured tenderly, gazing at her with those sickeningly love struck eyes of adoration.

"Really—you shouldn't have." she replied, playing utterly embarrassed by the attention. I had spent a lot of time with her and could tell by her eyes, by the way they twinkled brightly, that she was really enjoying this.

Pulling a long slender box from an inside robe pocket, Draco grinned; waiting with bated breath as she slowly unwrapped it. Her eyes widened with a breathless gasp; pulling out the gift to show her friends. It was an exquisite gold necklace with large salamander tears of the purest red; muggles tend to call them 'fire emeralds' from their luster. I bet it must have cost Draco a small fortune for that—obviously getting the result he wanted: Joanna threw her arms about him with a laugh.

"Oh it's beautiful! Thank you!" she declared, lifting it up to show the others, causing jealous murmurs of appreciation sounded from the girls lips while the boys grumbled under their breaths; feeling that their twenty galleon gifts would come off as cheap if they gave them to their girls now.

I watched with a clenched jaw as Draco insisted on putting it on her, having her turn about away from him. With a gentle tenderness, he pushed her hair out of his way—his fingers lingering a bit too long on her collarbone.

"See?" he whispered softly in her ear with a faint smile, "If fits like a dream." With that, he stole a quick kiss—planting a chaste caress on her neck before turning back to the table; making her turn a pretty pink.

Of course everyone noticed—McGonagall looking like she as about to burst blissfully with joy. She is an utterly corny romantic, if you ask me. The others flickered teasing glances back and forth between the two of them, waiting to see something more in this little romantic drama people had starting referring to as "Dranna" (Draco/Joanna). Slipping my little silver-wrapped present in my pocket, I decided to wait until our visit that night to give it to her.

***

The candles had burned low, casting dim light in my office as I waited. _Where is she?_ I was about to get up and go to bed—as I was supposed to be—when the door cracked open by itself. Smoothing my hair down, I stood. Biting my lip nervously, I hesitantly stepped forward; refusing to look at her in the eye as she pulled off her cloak with a grin.

"Here." I said gruffly, thrusting the little palm-sized package into her hands. Now I had done that, I turned away in embarrassment. I could almost hear the smile on her face—yes I said 'hear'.

The sound of crinkly paper being torn away told me she was opening it. I didn't dare look; striding back, instead, to the familiar safety of my desk. She positively squealed with delight; running up to throw her arms about me.

"Oh Professor, it's wonderful!" My gift was a small "Song Sprite"; a goblin-made device that would fly about the owner's shoulders, serenading them with songs as they request after being imprinted. They could play absolutely any song, whether it be muggle or wizarding. I thought she might like it. She pushed me back into my chair and wrapped her arms around my neck with a playful smile.

"Thank you." She nuzzled her lips against me; right at my weak spot behind my ear. I shivered. "Thank you _so_ much." She continued kissing her way across my collarbone, unbuttoning my collar with deft fingers.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen: Lock to My Heart**

Christmas break came and went—a happy time filled with memories of spiced mead and roasted chestnuts and cuddles by the fire. News came to me by word-of-mouth that Hermione had fallen severely ill and had to be kept separate from the rest of the school until she recovered. Me, being the kind generous man I am, sent her a well thought-out "Get Well" card that expressed my considerate concern about her welfare. As a bonus, this earned me points with her female friend; promising not to tease me about my lack of talent in the spell department as much as she usually liked to do. The best part had to be that there hadn't been any attacks since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick.

Striding up to McGonagall one day as she readied her sixth-year students for class, I expressed my honest opinion on why the attacks had stopped.

"I don't think there'll be anymore trouble, Minerva." I said while tapping my nose knowingly with a charming wink; some female students nearby nearly swooned at the sight of the roguish glint, "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught them. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on them." I paused for a moment; a brilliant idea coming to mind as my eyes flitted over to Joanna's to catch her eye.

"You know," I said, turning back to my fellow teacher who looked oddly strained. Must be my mere presence clouding her self-esteem about how well she could compare to me with her students—poor woman, "what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term!" I clasped my hands together in earnest delight, "I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…"

I went off then with another impressive tap to my nose before striding back towards my classroom to plan out my idea.

Before long it was February 14—the time for lovers and romancers to woo their potential mates with wild abandon. Perhaps it was the feeling of young love in the air or perhaps the way my own life was going rather well, I decided to do a little favor to the rest of the students so they might know the same happiness I felt.

It took me a few hours of supervising, as I had some students put up the decorations I designed, but it came out wonderful. The large pink flowers I had purchased looked utterly romantic with the heart-shaped confetti I had a student charm to fall from the ceiling. Best of all, I found the perfect occasion to wear my new bright pink robes.

Waving for silence over breakfast, I stood with a smile. "Happy Valentine's Day!" I shouted cheerfully to everyone. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all—and it doesn't end here!"

I clapped my hands and through the doors marched a dozen dwarfs I hired to dress as cupids, complete with golden wings and harps. They didn't appear too happy though. I'll have to dock a galleon from their five galleons per hour pay.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" I beamed proudly at the cleverness of my plan, "They will be roving around the school today delivering your Valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Later on in the day, one of the dwarfs barged into my office during my prep to deliver a special Valentine to me. After hearing about some of the more embarrassing poems that were delivered earlier that day—the most infamous being the one Harry Potter received anonymously—I was glad that the grumpy dwarf just handed over the written note with a grunt. I smiled when I recognized the handwriting.

**Seduce my mind and you can have my body,  
Find my soul and I'm yours forever.  
See you tomorrow night.**

The dwarf hung about for a moment, tracing the outline of the stone floor with his toe. With a cough he caught my attention from my private musing.

"Any response, sir?" he asked. I nodded, scrambling about in the drawers of my desk for a piece of parchment before I scrawled out a simple message.

**All days are nights to see till I see thee,  
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me**.**  
Sonnet 43**

With another grunt, the dwarf toddled off with my note to deliver to a certain female student who had been haunting my every thought since after we started this little agreement. My class with her was coming up next. I couldn't wait to see her face when she received my valentine.

***

Entering my classroom, wanting to make a grand entrance on this special day (this was my favorite holiday after all), I was hit with the overpowering flowery scent of roses. I blinked as I saw a mass of white in the middle of my classroom. Were my eyes deceiving me? No…as I strode down the stairway from my office, I saw that in-fact; the white mass was hundreds of roses covering one of my student's desk and chair until they were no longer visible. Draco was just putting the finishing touches as he placed the last rose with a grin.

"I say!" I declared appreciatively, placing my hands on my hips with a smile, "_Someone's_ getting into the spirit of the season." Perhaps he wasn't all that bad after all. Whichever girl he went to the trouble to do this for will positively flip her lid.

Joanna, walking in at that moment, saw the flowers. Her eyes widened with delight as she clapped her hands happily. It was then I remembered _whose_ desk that was.

"My favorite flowers! You remembered!" she laughed, throwing her arms around his neck with a smile. "Thanks." He smiled, blushing in response from the passionate hug she was giving him.

"No problem. Did you get my valentine?" She nodded with a smirk, pulling out a gold letter from the inside pocket of her jacket. My jaw clenched as a flirtatious smile flickered across his lips as she went to give him another hug.

"Alright class, take your seats now. Take your seats." I coughed, turning away with a strained look before anyone would notice.

***

Later that night, I was browsing over the latest essays I had the students write about my adventures in _Travels with Trolls_. That's when Joanna came barging in the door, upset and pissed as she slammed the door shut behind her; near tears. Without thinking, I was up and out of my chair as I went to her; concerned.

"What is it?" I asked, cocking my head as I went to hold her. She turned her face away, hiding the bitter tears falling from those beautiful eyes.

"Its nothing." she hiccuped, wiping away a tear; seemingly angry that it was there. I shook my head with a faint understanding smile as I tipped her chin up to look at me.

"'Nothing' doesn't make you cry." I murmured, gazing into her eyes. Beaming suddenly, I grinned. "That's _good_. I should write that down." She simply glared at me with a sigh of exasperation as I went for pen and paper. There was a faint smile at the corners of her lips though, which is a good sign.

Hitching my hip on the corner of my desk, I turned back to her with a curious look. "What is it really?" I murmured gently. There was a distinct struggle on her face of whether or not to tell me.

"It's my father…" she said finally with a catch in her voice as she sat down wearily on my couch. Moving to sit beside her, I took her hand in mine. Funny how a simple gesture can do so much to a tender heart; mine was pounding at the familiarity of it.

"What about your father?" I prayed it wasn't anything too serious. It was paining me enough to see her in such turmoil. If her father died, I don't think I could handle the grief in her eyes. She pursed her lips, trying not to cry.

"He wants to take me out of Hogwarts and send me back to France because of this whole 'Chamber' business." she choked, gazing down at her lap depressively. I was confused—even from the beginning of the year she had been declaring how much she preferred France to here.

"I thought that was what you wanted." murmured I with a furrowed eyebrow. Catching my eye, she sighed:

"It _is_…was…I don't know…" Slipping her soft hand from mine, she cradled her head in her hands. "I actually have friends here…Harry, Ron, Hermione…and Drakey's here—" she added with a light smile. I cocked my eyebrow.

"_Drakey?_" I giggled, trying hard not to laugh at the absurd nickname. She made a face at me.

"_Draco_. Sorry." she muttered under her breath as she spoke from the shadow of her hand, "And then there's—" For a moment, she looked up at me with a faint glimmer of a smile before dropping her head back down again. "Never mind. I just don't want to go."

Pulling her close beside me, I just held her to me as she hiccupped away her tears. Even after she calmed down, I continued to hold her close and stroke her dark soft hair. It was so strange and mildly frightening to see her so vulnerable, to see her abdicate her dignity around me even for a second. It was so…human.

"You're a pureblood right?" I said softly, pressing my cheek to the crown of her head with a sigh. She nodded. I could almost hear her eyes rolling in her head at that.

"Pure as snow." she drawled in reply; the disdain behind it nearly dripping off it in thick blobs.

"Well then," I murmured in her ear, "You have nothing to worry about. The heir is only targeting muggle-borns and half-bloods."

"Don't forget squibs." she giggled morbidly as she remembered Filch's cat being petrified. I nodded in concede.

"Squibs too. You are none of those." I pulled her closer, hating the mere thought that she might be attacked for any reason. "_You're safe_." I whispered reassuringly. That just made her laugh into my chest—a dark edge to the sound.

"Don't you think I haven't explained that to my father? He says since I associate with them, like Hermione and Harry, I'm just as likely to be attacked."

I thought that over for a moment. Her father did have a point in being worried for his daughter, though so far the heir hadn't shown interest in the purebloods who befriended half-bloods or muggles. Actually, the heir didn't seem to have any interest in the students at all at the moment—he or she had just vanished and the attacks had suddenly stopped.

"Do you want me to write a letter of assurance for your parents, guaranteeing your safety as long as I am here to protect you?" I asked with the utmost gravity. She snorted, looking up at me with an incredulous look; instantly shattering this wonderfully heroic moment.

"_You_ protect _me_?" she sneered, throwing her arms around me with a laugh. "You're so cute." she sighed, kissing my cheek with a smile. I did what any man would do when his honor came into question: I pouted.

"I could protect you if the moment called for it." I grumbled, crossing my arms with a frown.

"You can't even do a simple bone repairing spell—let alone god-knows-what-else." she teased, grinning cheekily at me. Seeing something in my eyes, she softened; curling her long fingers through my hair. "That's sweet though. I thought you would have loved to have me gone. Then you wouldn't have to pretend to be my lover and send me cutesy valentines. Nice poem by the way. I love Shakespeare." I very well couldn't say that I didn't mind being her lover anymore. Instead I looked away with a bothered sigh.

"Well then I wouldn't be able to gain those items honorably if you left." I huffed. Giving me a look, she placed her head back down on my chest; pressing her cheek over my heart and just laid there. Within a few minutes she fell asleep like that.

I cocked my head, looking down into her innocent face; the carefully cultivated façade of pride and arrogance gone with the gentle dew of sleep. She almost looked like an angel sleeping peacefully.

"_Now_ she looks like she belongs in Gryffindor." I murmured lovingly to no one in particular. My portraits nodded their heads in agreement; watching us as the candles burned low into the night.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen: Lock to My Heart**

So our ritual of her slipping through my office door in the middle of the night as I pretend to stay up late grading papers, tests, etc; pretending to be bothered by having to set aside my work for her 'fancies' as I liked to tease. Not long after Valentine's Day she came to me with her Song Sprite following at her shoulder. I had to hide my grin behind my hand as I noticed it.

Humming an airy tune under her breath, Joanna tossed her invisibility cloak on the couch with a nonchalant 'Hello Professor'.

"Hello Joanna." I replied, looking dismissively back at my 'work' with a mild look. I was going to play it cool tonight to see her reaction. "What's new with you?"

"I have a song stuck in my head." she complained, throwing herself into her chair across from my desk. "I can't get rid of it."

"I find that if I sing the song that's stuck in my head, it tends to go away." I replied breezily, not looking up from my papers. So far she didn't seem to care that I was ignoring her. Let's see how long that lasts.

"Alright! I think I will." she declared cheerfully, pulling out her wand with a mischievous grin. Quite simply, I had to look up to see what she was going to do—did she forget that it's the middle of the night and if she sings, someone (i.e. Filch) will hear her?

With a wave of her wand, she murmured dramatically: '_Silencio_' and tapped the stone wall. Turning back to me with a victorious grin, she slipped her wand back into her pocket.

"That ought to do it. Let's test it out shall we?" she turned to her Song Sprite with an important look on her face, though why I had no idea—those things aren't alive after all. "Melody, play me _Name of the Game_ by ABBA—the karaoke version." The thing gave a little trill of notes in deference before searching its databank for the correct file. With a click and a beep, the music started. Joanna's voice was sweet and gentle—I had never heard something so beautiful in my life. Her eyes seemed to dance and play as she playfully flirted with the words of the song.

_**I've seen you twice, in a short time  
Only a week since we started  
It seems to me, for every time  
I'm getting more open-hearted**_

_**I was an impossible case  
No one ever could reach me  
But I think I can see in your face  
There's a lot you can teach me  
So I wanna know......**_

_**What's the name of the game?  
Does it mean anything to you?  
What's the name of the game?  
Can you feel it the way I do?  
Tell me please, 'cause I have to know  
I'm a bashful child, beginning to grow**_

_**And you make me talk  
And you make me feel  
And you make me show  
What I'm trying to conceal  
If I trust in you, would you let me down?  
Would you laugh at me, if I said I care for you?  
Could you feel the same way too?  
I wanna know......**_

_**The name of the game**_

_**I have no friends, no one to see  
And I am never invited  
Now I am here, talking to you  
No wonder I get excited**_

_**Your smile, and the sound of your voice  
And the way you see through me  
Got a feeling, you give me no choice  
But it means a lot to me  
So I wanna know......**_

_**What's the name of the game?  
(your smile and the sound of your voice)  
Does it mean anything to you?  
(got a feeling you give me no choice)  
(but it means a lot)  
What's the name of the game?  
(your smile and the sound of your voice)  
Can you feel it the way I do?  
Tell me please, 'cause I have to know  
I'm a bashful child, beginning to grow**_

_**And you make me talk  
And you make me feel  
And you make me show  
What I'm trying to conceal  
If I trust in you, would you let me down?  
Would you laugh at me, if I said I care for you?  
Could you feel the same way too?  
I wanna know......  
Oh yes I wanna know......**_

_**The name of the game  
(I was an impossible case)  
Does it mean anything to you?  
(but I think I can see in your face)  
(that it means a lot)  
What's the name of the game?  
(your smile and the sound of your voice)  
Can you feel it the way I do?  
(got a feeling you give me no choice)  
(but it means a lot)  
What's the name of the game?  
(I was an impossible case)  
Does it mean anything to you?  
(but I think I can see in your face)  
(that it means a lot)**_

The last note rang out as the stone walls held it going long after she finished. I was almost afraid that someone would come charging through my door to see what the hell I was doing in my office this late at night. Joanna paused, listening intently, before smiling ear-to-ear.

"I should have thought of doing that before." she said with quiet contemplation, shrugging, "I'll just leave it up so every time I come, your moans aren't mistaken for you being tortured in here." I was flabbergasted. How dare she assume that _I_—Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, an five times winner of _Witch Weekly'_s Most-Charming-Smile Award—would do something so base as that about her childish fumblings.

"I do not _moan_!" I scoffed with a scandalized huff, crossing my arms indignantly before me as I turned to look at her. This must have been the response she was expecting by the way her grin widened, giving me a sexy smile as she slid onto my lap.

"You moan." she replied with a knowing twinkle in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I refused to let her bully me into saying I moan with her feminine wiles.

"Do not!" I huffed, glaring up at her with a dark frown; furrowing my eyebrows most impressively. She just laughed before leaning in close, her hot breath flowing over me; making me forget for a moment that I was supposed to be mad at her, so intoxicating was her presence.

"Do. Too." she murmured softly as she gazed into my eyes with those lush dark eyes of hers—I never noticed how warm they actually were with flecks of gold around the iris. They almost looked like two pieces of gold tiger-eye set into a face of alabaster, framed by hair of ebony, lips of the reddest rubies. This girl…this girl was a crown jewel all on her own.

Pressing closer, her lips grazed across my cheek as she went to tease me with feathery kisses to my neck. Starting from my Adam's apple all the way to the jugular, she caressed my skin with the gentlest of kisses. Flames erupted under my skin wherever she made contact; I was breathless in ecstasy. She moved her way up my cheek, pausing to nibble on my earlobe with a smile.

Arching my back, I groaned in rapture of the thousands of emotions running through me—all of them more pleasurable and pleasant than the last. She pulled away for a moment with a smirk.

"See?" she said triumphantly, "_You moan_." I rolled my eyes, still very much affected by her touches. Panting, an overpowering impulse overtook me in my desires; losing control over myself for a moment. With a growl, I tugged her dangerously closer by her hips, going to taste her lips. _Would they be as soft as I daydreamed?_ I wondered as she came near. Pushing off and away from me coldly before that could happen, she looked positively livid…and mildly frightened.

"No kissing on the lips." she said shakily, wagging a stern finger at me. "We're just fooling around." I was confused, shaken as well by her ruthless rejection. She didn't even wait for me to explain. She just grabbed her invisibility cloak and left; not even caring to grab her flittering Song Sprite floating after her to shove it under the cloak with her as it followed after her obediently.

Throwing my head down onto the desk, I sighed in frustration. How was I supposed to live up to my order of 'being her lover' if I can't even kiss her? Isn't that what lovers do? The farthest we ever got was that night after the unsuccessful Dueling Club and she 'nursed my wounds'. If I was truthful with myself, I would admit that I was growing to enjoy her company more than I should each time I saw her. If I was completely honest, I would admit I was growing…_fond_...of her.

****

The song was "Name of the Game" by ABBA in the style from the movie _Mamma Mia!_ I obviously do not own it. I told you I was a major ABBA fan. All the little hints led up to the song in the story. I think it fits their relationship. Expect to see more ABBA references.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen: Lock to My Heart**

Poor Joanna was hit by another devastating attack by the heir—this time a dear friend of hers: Hermione Granger. I was there when she was informed of her friend's state. She burst into tears, throwing herself into the nearest set of arms (Draco's) and sobbed. It literally killed me to see her in so much pain, especially losing her best friend like that. The horrible thing was I very well couldn't comfort her during school; that was against regulations and would cause suspicions if I showed particular interest in any one student. And…I wasn't sure if I was welcome in private after that little disaster. I wouldn't be surprised if she called off the deal completely.

Hopefully Professor Sprout's mandrakes will mature soon and free this oppressive gloom from over the school.

Much to my surprise Joanna came to me that night, looking more solemn than I had ever seen her before. Giving me a strained smile, she slid off her jacket (for some reason or another; not wearing her invisibility cloak tonight)—loosening her tie with a weary sigh.

"Let's take this back to the beginning." she murmured softly, her eyes silently begging me to do as she asked if just this once. It was easy to tell that she needed something to distract her mind from the horror of earlier in the day and who better than me to do so?

I pushed back my chair to give her room to slide onto my lap as before, standing to take off my long emerald jacket; kindly leaving my neckerchief on for her to deal with. With a faint smile, she straddled my hips with an obligatory sigh as she had to unknot the neckerchief; tossing it with a smirk across the room and out of sight.

"I hate neckerchiefs, you know that." she said with raised eyebrows. Nodding, I smiled teasingly.

"That's why I wear them my sweet." I grinned cheekily, beaming with amusement as she smiled back at me.

Her fingers unbuttoned the top two buttons, including the ones on my collar, to get a clear view of my throat. Tracing the muscles there with her fingertips, she didn't seem in a hurry to start; instead deciding to torment me with gentle caresses. It seemed to occupy her, so that was fine. I closed my eyes, enjoying this simple contact.

Moving in, her lips flittered across my skin—teasing breath grazing across me like fire. Turning my face into her throat, I nuzzled the tender skin there; delighted when I felt her pulse quicken. It was gentle and innocent, our little exchange. It was quite nice actually.

Joanna sighed with satisfaction, pulling away for a moment to give me an appreciative smile for understanding what she needed at that time. She held my gaze for a moment, a strange and undeniably powerful feeling passing between us. That was when she noticed it.

"I left a little lipstick on your collar." she giggled, pulling out her wand for a moment. "_Accio_ neckerchief." she demanded with a wave of her wand and a hand thrust out expectantly. Without a struggle, the green blur flew into her hands with a smart flap.

With the tenderest of touches, she wiped away the offensive smudge; sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

She smiled, moving to kiss my cheek, when a soft tap sounded on the window. Sitting on the sill was a grand-looking eagle owl, majestically cleaning its wings. With a laugh, Joanna rolled away from me and merrily skipped to the window to see what the message was. Opening the small package, a flash of silver caught my eye as she extracted the beautiful charm bracelet within. I looked at her in bewilderment—who knew to send it to her here at night?

"Draco…" she cooed with a roll of her eyes, holding the gift up to the light, "That's so thoughtful of him. I should thank him for this." she murmured to herself. With a last-thought, she waved goodbye to me with a distracted smile. "See you, Professor."

I was puzzled and frustrated. We were just getting to a really good part and then she has to go and end it to see Draco…wait…if she and Draco started going out, she'd have no need for a fake lover because she'd have Draco. She might break the deal with me—that's wonderful! I won't have to skulk about my office late at night anymore; I could actually get some proper rest for once this year. Just the other day I was telling my portraits that I think my eyes were becoming bloodshot from all this.

Sinking into thought about this idea, I mused that it wasn't that bad—six months. We were almost at the end of it anyway…what if she says: "We agreed on six months. I won't leak the information but I'm not giving it to you." Her head popped in for a moment with a smile, breaking my thoughts.

"Could you pretend to be my escort in case Professor Snape is patrolling the halls again? It'd be a great help."

"Sure." I murmured, gathering up my jacket and fixing myself until I looked dashing and proper. She rolled her eyes.

"You take longer to get dressed than _I_ do."

Following her out into the hall, we came across Professors Snape and McGonagall with Draco and a man with long blonde hair that I could only assume to be Draco's father (Lucius Malfoy) by the resemblance. Spotting us walking towards them, Lucius gave a faint smile.

"Goodness me, is that you Joanna? My how you've grown." he murmured with a soft, calculating voice. Something about him or his voice reminded me of a slimy snake. "It seems like only yesterday you and Draco were singing your little love songs to each other at the villa." he teased with a fierce twinkle in his eye. She laughed in response, blushing in embarrassment about this little tidbit of her childhood being exposed. Draco seemed to suffer the same uncomfortable discomfort as he turned away with a stressed look.

"Let's hear one of these little songs." Snape asked, turning to Lucius—exchanging private smiles I didn't like. If his reputation told me anything, I wouldn't put it past Lucius to purposefully set this up to put the two together. Draco moved to protest when his father insisted. That shut him up instantly. With an understanding smile to Draco, Joanna nodded in agreement.

Transfiguring an antique vase into a guitar, much to McGonagall's chagrin, Lucius Malfoy handed the instrument over to his son; reassuring the Professor that he would change it back after they were done with it. What was this guy doing here anyway?

"I really don't know what song to sing…" Draco murmured with an uneasy smile to Joanna. Shrugging, she took his hand encouragingly.

"How about the one we wrote in study hall about our summer together?" He nodded with a beaming grin. He actually looked quite handsome when he did that. Plucking out the first few chords to test the instrument, Draco went straight into this light-sounded ballad tune.

_**I can still recall**_

_**Our last summer, I still see it all.**_

_**Walks along the sand, laughing in the rain**_

_**Our last summer memories that remain**_

_**We made our way along the river**_

_**And sat down in the grass by the Eiffel Tower**_

Joanna joined in, smiling as her eyes were on no one but Draco. She captivated her audience easily with her sweet gentle voice.

_**I was so happy we had met**_

_**It was the age of no regret**_

The two of them harmonized, smiling at the truth behind the words

_**Oh yes**_

Taking over the lead, Joanna playfully made a peace sign—making Lucius laugh privately at the hidden joke.

_**Those crazy years that was the time of the flower power**_

Draco went, smiling in embarrassment.

_**But underneath we had a fear of flying**_

Joanna's eyes became haunted for a moment as she sang her part. This seemed to be a real fear of hers.

_**Of growing old. A fear of slowly dying**_

Draco smiled faintly, his eyes going back to a blissful time by the way it looked as they harmonized.

_**We took a chance**_

_**Like we were dancing our last dance**_

_**I can still recall**_

_**Our last summer, I still see it all**_

_**In the tourist jam**_

_**Round the Notre Dame**_

_**Our last summer, walking hand-in-hand**_

_**Paris restaurants**_

_**Our last summer morning croissants**_

_**Living for the day, worries far away**_

_**Our last summer we could laugh and play**_

Leaning towards her friend with a flirtatious smile, she gazed almost lovingly at him. In fact, they both seemed to be gazing lovingly at each other.

_**And now you're working hard in school,**_

_**A family man, a Quidditch fan and your name is Draco**_

With a scoff, Draco rolled his eyes dismissively.

_**How dull it seems**_

Her eyes positively shined as she sang:

_**Yet you're the hero of my dreams**_

They harmonized again on the chorus, but Lucius and Snape were already giving each other small little nods of success.

_**I can still recall**_

_**Our last summer, I still see it all**_

_**In the tourist jam**_

_**Round the Notre Dame**_

_**Our last summer, walking hand-in-hand**_

_**I can still recall**_

_**Our last summer, I still see it all**_

Joanna faded out, leaving Draco to finish out the song with the lines from his first stanza.

_**Walks along the sand, laughing in the rain**_

_**Our last summer, memories that remain**_

Poor Professor McGonagall was moved to tears by the end of it by how sweet they looked together and how fantastic they _sounded_ together. The three other adults clapped their hands in response to the wonderful serenade they were given. Seeing the two of them sitting side-by-side, singing together, made me realize something: they look really good together, I mean like _fairytale princess and prince_ good. They were just too perfect with each other. My chest ached at the thought; it literally hurt my chest and I had no idea why. It was like a thousand needles were stabbing at my heart all at once while the bottom of it fell out.

With his matchmaking done, Lucius left us with a polite bow, saying something about having business to do with Dumbledore. Going to leave with Professor McGonagall after I explained that she was getting help from me in my class, Joanna was stopped by Draco grabbing her by the elbow with a concerned look.

"I'm sure she'll be alright." he murmured shyly before wishing her goodnight. With a smile quirking her lips, she cocked her head with a fond glance.

"Thanks Draco. I hope she will be and thanks for the bracelet. Goodnight." Leaning down to reach him on the lower step, she gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading up the stairs.

I watched as Draco was led back to his dormitory, in a daze, by a smiling Professor Snape. My chest did uncomfortable flips as I watched him go; a sickening feeling flowing over me as I trudged back to my office to think.

***

News came the next morning about Hagrid being arrested for the attacks and Dumbledore being sacked for incompetence by the Governors of the school. That explained why Lucius was there last night at least. I was glad to hear they made the arrest finally and got their man. The Ministry would never arrest anyone without good reasons, am I right? Sad thing about Dumbledore though, he was a nice chap. Either way, Joanna was upset because she was close with both men.

***

The song was "Our Last Summer" by ABBA. I changed the words around a little in a section. "And now you're working hard in school/ a family man, a Quidditch fan and your name is Draco" are obviously not the real lyric. The actual ones are "And now you're working in a bank, a family man, a football fan, and your name is Harry"....I had a lot of free time on my hand in school.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen: Lock to My Heart**

I had come to the conclusion that Joanna was gone now that Draco was in her life. I didn't even care about the Chamber anymore (not that the fact that Hagrid had been arrested had anything to do with that…okay maybe it did). Planning on discussing it with her tomorrow, after school perhaps in a 'study session', I was going to ask her what her decision was. I was so wrapped up in this thought process, that I was surprised to see her walk through my door that night. I decided it was now or never.

"Joanna, I…" Seeing she was under much duress, I abandoned my agenda as I cocked my head in curiosity, "What is it?" I said, striding over to her in case she needed me, "Is it your father?"

With a cry of frustration, she threw herself into my arms; kissing any exposed skin she could get to. Leading me back to the couch, she shoved me roughly down by my shoulders. I was confused but excited, so I just went along with it. Her touch was more demanding than I had ever known it to be. She tugged off my jacket, neckerchief, and shirt with the utmost urgency. Willingly I obliged, helping her in the removal of the clothing. Perhaps this would be like the time after the Dueling Club.

Things started escalating; her kisses were erotic and arousing as she explored my body with her fingers and lips. I longed to reach up and kiss those tender lips but I fought this urge. I didn't want to mess this up again.

Sliding her fingers down the hard ridges of my stomach, I groaned as she unbuckled my pants. Thrusting her hands in, she pulled out my hardened member and stroked it with her fingertips. Moaning, I doubled over with a gasp as her hand grasped me, moving up and down my shaft. I had to grip the arms of the couch with vise-like hands to cope with this burning pleasure. Gasping at her caress, my back arched heavily with a groan. Stroking me, touching me, everything about it felt so good…felt so right. Wrapping her fingers about my member, she pumped slowly at first; not sure about how this worked exactly by the look on her face. So she really was a virgin! It almost made me laugh and cry at the same time.

Leaning over me, she kissed my neck as before but for some reason the sensation was heightened tenfold. Her breath tickled my ear as she whispered words of pleasure and passion—words that both excited and delighted me—driving me mad with desire. I longed to roll us over, rip off her clothes, and make her eat those teasing oaths. I wanted to drive deep into her, feel her warmth enclose around me as we worked ourselves to the point of release. But I didn't dare. No, if that's what she wants, I'll wait until she says so.

Her pumping quickened, making me groan. It wasn't going to be long before I couldn't hold out much longer.

"No…" I panted, begging, feeling wave after wave of pleasure rock me as my body tensed in anticipation for the climax, "No—stop before I—" I whimpered softly and breathlessly. She was relentless, continuing to pump me hard for all I was worth; all the while whispering those erotic words in my ear.

Bam! I came in her hand with an explosion of white, surprising the both of us with its suddenness.

I fell backwards in exhaustion with a weary hand to my forehead. I felt worn out, spent yet satisfied; a wonderful sensation I had never experienced before. I just lay there gasping for breath as she stood. Wiping her hand on the side of her skirt with an unreadable expression, she looked down at me for a moment.

"You can expect the package of photos and diaries on your desk in the morning." she murmured without emotion; her eyes cold and unreachable. I looked up from behind my hand with weary confusion, still trying to catch my breath; my body still trembling with pleasant little aftershocks.

"As of tomorrow it will be six months since we started." she explained before giving me a half-hearted smile. "Congratulations—you survived." Walking for the door, she went to go; pausing at the last minute to say: "Good luck with your next book, Professor. Who knows? I might just read it."

All this took less than a minute to transcend but when I figured out what was happening, she was gone. I sat there for a moment, noticing the sudden emptiness I felt in my chest at the thought of life without her smiling face. I realized that I _didn't_ want this to end; that I wanted to continue holding her, kissing her…loving her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen: Lock to My Heart**

I had to do something and I had to do it soon before Draco snatched her up and I lost her forever. Waiting patiently in class for her to do something remotely disruptive or (more likely) disrespectful, I kept a close eye on her to spring my plan into action. That 'disruptive thing' came in the form of speaking out of term and without raising her hand. It wasn't that uncommon in classrooms but it was usually frowned upon. Putting on a furious face, one that had gotten me out of many bad situations, I declared:

"Miss Walsh! I do not tolerate disrespect in my classroom. Fifty points from Gryffindor and I expect to see you in my office at eight tonight for detention." I seemed positively livid and enraged as I shouted this crossly. Every one of my students was speechless. This was the first detention I had handed out all year; but mostly they were surprised by the severity in my tone. I was so intense a few of them scooted their chairs backwards in fright. It almost was as if I really was a teacher! Instantly everyone went straight to writing those essays I assigned on _Voyages with Vampires_ asking how I defeated the vampires and to write a sonnet about the experience.

Even Joanna was taken back by my act; a look of shock on her face as I wrote out a reminder note for her detention with my peacock feather pen for dramatic effect. Nothing says 'scary detention' like a waving peacock feather as I write it out. Noticing the little note 'wear the teddy I like' I scrawled on the back of the paper earlier that day; she looked up and caught my eye. Since no one was looking, I winked roguishly with a smile. She smiled in return.

***

Let me explain my plan. There was only one time of the day when I was guaranteed that no one would come barging in my classroom, not that people were in the practice of doing it. Apparently after people heard about the detention I had with Harry where he helped me with my fan mail until midnight, no one wanted to walk in on that in case they were roped into helping as well. I don't understand _why_ people don't like the idea of helping me with my fan mail. They're probably jealous of my success. Well, either way, it assured no one would walk in on my plans and I could keep her as late as I wanted and no one would be the wiser.

Right on time she came through my door, closing it tightly behind her. Striding in the room like she owned it, familiarly and casually, Joanna tossed her jacket over the back of a nearby desk chair with a smirk.

"Your little performance today!" she laughed as she continued walking towards the front of the class, "You should consider being an actor rather than a—"

Without hesitation, I took her into my arms and pressed her against the writing board, kissing her sensually all over her neck and shoulders; nuzzling her hair lovingly. I wasn't going to waste time; not now. She grew hot, her pulse racing; she was getting worked up by this but she tried to fight it and regain control.

"I didn't say I wanted it." she muttered under her breath, but not pushing me away. I smiled against her skin, kissing up her neck until my breath teased her earlobe; my fingers skimming along her body unopposed.

"If you didn't want this, then why do I feel that teddy I asked you to wear beneath your uniform?" I said softly, feeling her tremble in my arms as my hot breath teased her ear like hers had teased mine hundreds of times beforehand.

Pressing herself against me, I could almost hear the cogs whirling in her head as she struggled to hold back against my caress and stay in control. I was having none of that. Covering her with sweet gentle kisses, I trailed across her cheek and broke the biggest rule of our relationship: no kissing on the lips. It was like a switch went off in her, making her completely weak in the knees in my embrace.

Lifting her up in my arms, I carried her up the stairs into my office and laid her down on my couch, knocking off the excess pillows to the floor. All this time, I never broke eye contact with her; I was always touching her in some way as a sort of reminder of the bond we had grown over the year. I wanted her thoughts to be of me and me alone. I stripped her and myself of our troublesome clothing, tossing them aside and let my eyes rake over her tender form. Blushing under my gaze, she turned her face aside bashfully from my intent glance. I smiled, turning her face back to mine and went to her; kissing her more urgently than ever before. Her skin was softer than I remembered; sweeter tasting as well. The feeling of our bodies pressing together was…there was no word to describe it. It was incredible, arousing, soul-scorching…there simply aren't enough words in the dictionary for it. All of my senses were open and greedily taking her in, enjoying every part of her.

It wasn't enough though, not just this kissing and caressing. I had needs and my body wanted gratification _now_. Going to pull her closer to me, I was surprised to see the same frightened look as when I went to kiss her before; shying away from my touch.

"What is it?" I murmured, tenderly brushing my fingertips along her cheek. My concern was real; I didn't want to pressure her into doing anything she wasn't ready to do.

"I'm afraid it'll hurt." she admitted meekly, unable to hold my gaze. I gave her a disbelieving glance, now understanding why she kept leaving when things got interesting.

"Is _that_ why you've been holding back?" I teased, my eyes widening with mock shock. She slapped my shoulder with a scowl.

"_Seriously_! I don't like a lot of pain—" Before she could go on, I pressed my lips against hers reassuringly; cupping her face lovingly in my hands to gaze into those beautiful eyes I had grown to adore.

"It's uncomfortable at first I will admit, but nothing else. After a few minutes it feels quite spectacular if you're with someone you can trust won't hurt you and who you know loves you very much."

I knew saying the 'who you know loves you very much' might be pushing it too far after breaking the 'no kissing on the lips' rule but she had to know how I felt. I didn't want her to think this was just meaningless sex between kind-of-sort-of-past-lovers. As I expected, she was stunned.

"Professor?" she murmured with wide eyes. I smiled, for what else could I do?

"Was I too forward?" She shook her head, wrapping those slender arms around me with a returning smile.

"No…I like you being honest with me." she said before pressing her lips against mine tenderly.

Taking it back to the beginning, I decided to take things a little slower this time. Kissing my way down her body, my lips fluttered across her skin; paying tribute at her lovely breasts before marching all the way down to her navel. Once there, I decided to continue the journey, down along the thigh; making her tremble with pleasure. Biting a tender fleshy spot on her inner thigh, I enjoyed hearing her cry out my name in ecstasy. For once it was _she_ who was going to be moaning tonight.

Skimming along her body, I moved back to her lips—relishing them; enjoying the softness of them, the taste of them. I couldn't content myself with these niceties for long; I had an entire body to explore and only one night to do it. The problem was my lower half needed some satisfaction before that could happen.

I looked into her eyes, my own burning with this unquenchable desire, and waited to see if she was ready to accept me in. She nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck in anticipation. I could feel the tension in her body as she nervously waited for me to slide inside of her. Kissing her neck, I waited until she relaxed in my arms before guiding myself into her warmth.

It was like an explosion went off in my head—bright lights danced behind my eyes. Gasping, she clutched at my back; digging her fingernails into my skin. I didn't care about the pain; this moment was too wonderful to ruin with a few scratches.

My fingers trailed along her body, exploring everywhere with probing curiosity; trying to find what drove her wild with desire, what left her shuttering with pleasure, and most importantly: what turned her on. I knew I liked the feeling of her breasts cupped tenderly in my hands but I wasn't sure that was what she wanted. With some investigation I found that, in-fact, she liked my hands tracing the small of her back with my fingertips.

"I love you." I sighed into her lips, gently moving within her. "I love you so much." She arched against me, pressing those lovely breasts against my bare chest. Life couldn't get more perfect than this. I was holding the woman I loved in my arms, making love to her, and it was wonderful. Her heady scent of lavender was filling my senses, making me feel mildly intoxicated as I kissed her; taking the scent of her in.

Flipping us over so she was on top, she ground herself against me; making me go cross-eyed with rapture. Moving faster on me, she thrust downward. Our panting breath became one as we moved together faster and faster. I couldn't take it anymore. Flipping us back over, I thrust into her hard and deep, wanting deep penetration. She groaned, tugging me closer to her.

"_Harder_." she moaned, "Harder!" I obliged eagerly, thrusting down on her as hard as I could. Within moments I was hit by a blinding white light, my body wracked with pleasure as I hit the point of release. Having her own orgasm around the same moment, Joanna tossed her head back with a gasp before relaxing in my arms.

Laying back beside her, a feeling of satisfied exhaustion took over me as I tugged her close to me. Feeling the same exhaustion, she surprisingly didn't object when I pulled against my body as I expected her to; she never liked to lose control, no matter how minuscule the subject matter. There we lay in silent reverence for what had passed until she started giggling.

"Gilderoy…that's such a mouthful for when I want to moan your name." she teased with a mischievous smile, "Can I call you 'Roy'…or would you prefer '_Gildy_'?" I frowned with a faint smile. Gildy would not do, not at all.

"No, Roy is fine."

***

Joanna and I had been seeing each other officially in secret for a little over two weeks since that night. It was like I was living in a bed of roses; she would come and we would sit there and talk as lovers truly do or we would do as lovers truly do, if you catch my drift. Unfortunately Draco was ever persisting in his pursuit of Joanna and I could almost feel her being tugged towards him as he did more wild and daring feats to impress her.

Pulling her aside during one of her study halls (my prep), I took her to an abandoned classroom where there would be no portraits to overhear our conversation.

"Look at me. There's something I want to talk to you about." I stated with the utmost seriousness the moment the door was shut.

"What Roy?" she asked, cocking her head. _This is going to be harder than I thought_ I pondered to myself. It was almost too hard to say in the first place without her staring at me with those big brown eyes and her head cocked so cutely to the side with that curious look of hers.

"Just listen—don't laugh okay? Will you marry me?" She stared at me blankly. Quickly and nervously I filled the uncomfortable silence. "I'm sorry, it's so sudden. But I can't find any other words. I could say 'Let's live together' or 'Let's stay together always', but…those words are inadequate. Ever since I started seeing you I felt myself drawing closer and closer to you…and I got scared. I've never felt like this for anyone else ever before; just you…I don't want to ever let you go. I don't want to lose you. Not to anyone."

"I believe you." she said with a smile, placing her hand on my cheek lovingly.

"You do?" It was almost hard to believe that this is the same girl who wouldn't believe a single word that came out of my mouth no matter if it was or wasn't true.

"Yes I do. Because of that I'm going to say yes."

"Yes?" God, I've become a flipping parrot repeating her every last word. My frustration must have shown on my face because she just laughed and kissed my lips. "Yes, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five times winner of _Witch_ _Weekly_'s Most-Charming-Smile award. I will marry you."

****

YAY!!! IT'S DONE!!! Actually, there's an optional epilogue that makes it REALLY sad because if I continue true to the story, he goes down into the chamber and gets hit with his memory charm--forgetting about Joanna completely. I'll leave it up to you guys to post and say what you want to see. I have it written already...I just won't post it just yet.


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